Culture

. September 9th 1901… A September evening in old Paris town, The time when Parisians let their hair down. There’s laughing and dancing and folk getting drunk, And all of the ladies are looking like punks. It just needs an artist to capture the scene, But Toulouse-Lautrec is nowhere to...

. The Shortfalls of Empirical Knowledge Sorry, Iowa. Each night is different from all previous And therefore not the same as those to come. The ways of Nature can be devious: They test experience and leave us numb To expectations we would otherwise Have nurtured and applied to form our...

. An Unexpected Smile inspired by the coronation of King Charles III  Today I woke before the sun had spread Her golden grin across the Texas skies. With childlike zest and joy I leapt from bed To cram my Kentish heart and flood my eyes With coronation scenes from streets I know--- Grand streets that speak of days...

. If you enjoy this video from Andrew Benson Brown's Classical Poets Live, please click on "Watch on YouTube" and then press like and subscribe. . https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VahmUnlLEY0 . .

. DoorWay Canto 2, Extract The Poet has gone through the ‘DoorWay’ and entered heaven. Here in the second Canto and in the constellation of Libra he meets his dead grandfather (who was a Libran: 30/7) and his uncle Jim, who died only ten years old and long before the...

. A Right Royal Coronation Anon the pomp and pageantry will beam From London as King Charles III is crowned. The Abbey-bound procession’s set to stream On gleaming tides of splendour to the sound Of jaunty hooves and chatter from a sea Of gazers as his coach cleaves through the...

. Planets, Gods and Weekdays Alarms are snoozed, and Monday's born. A few more snores as dreams are shorn, And sleep is corked by clanging horn; __The moon's bereft, Her silver day now dimmed and worn __By weekly theft. A remnant fire of Mars appears, Now Tuesday steers earth's working...

. Books Some say that books are obsolete, __Preferring new devices. But reading books is still a treat, __No gadget quite suffices. . . Tipping Etiquette The credit card machine implied that __I should leave a tip, For someone who provided “service” __No more than a blip. The hope is...

. On Binge-Reading Sylvia Plath Verdammte mirror-bee-eyes stare at you As you describe in depth colossal pain. You say too much: your tormented achoo Your lack of faith, your overactive brain. I read your sadness---verses made of hurt And genius, from a coruscating pen Of acid-green, with not one word...

. Chicken and Andouille Gumbo Try my gumbo recipe From the land of andouille: ½ cup unsalted butter; ½ cup all-purpose flour Melt the butter, whisk in flour, Cook and stir a quarter-hour Till it’s peanut-butter hue. Set aside. This is the roux. 1 Tbsp canola oil, ½ cup each...

. Who Is Behind Your Mask Now some of my friends, who put on a good show, Are brave in the face of their fears, this I know. The burdens of life they are striving to hide, So what are the things they are feeling inside? One time they are...

. Why Children Like Nursery Rhymes A story to be told, a tale to tell Of things that do not matter much at all. Who cares about the farmer in the dell? Or Humpty-Dumpty falling off a wall? The pickled peppers Peter Piper Picked? Jack Horner in the corner eating...

. Let Us Lift Our Voices Higher by Mark F. Stone Don’t let leaders make their choices never having heard your voices. Pay no heed to churlish chatter, that your input doesn’t matter. They are hoping we’ll refrain from weighing in, that we’ll abstain from sharing views infused with passion...

. Encapsulations “It’s a shame that the tradition of producing small poetic encapsulations of classic texts seems to have died out.” ---Joseph S. Salemi . I. The Way of Peace an alexandroid Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Book III, Chapter 23 Obey!  Go do another’s will; __Avoid your...

. La Luna The poet compares the moon to Eve, our fallen but redeemed mother, and the sun to Mary, daughter of Eve and Mother of us all; she celebrates Our Lady’s victory over witchcraft, communism, and Islamism and her continued presence with us in our pilgrim exile. In daylight,...

. Receiving an Organ Transplant from China The waiting time was short, extremely short: A couple weeks and fifty thousand bucks Was all it took in China; somewhere else It’d take six months at least, which frankly sucks If you are sick most days and soon could die. It was...

. Sketches of Three Communistic Big Heads  . 1. Xi Jinping Who thinks this belly-flopping avarist is good except those marrying the flies that buzz and hiss while he rips up the world, gnashing it to cud until it udders out as worthless golden piss? They’re turd-land-dwellers sympathetic to the Devil,...

. Awaiting Adulation We all spend our lives awaiting adulations’ late arrival. We’re convinced that’s all we need for our emotional survival. So, we count up every “Like” and then we add them to each “Follow”. Disappointment is a bitter pill that most of us can’t swallow. We sit lost...

. Bardic Bots Will Shakespeare has been rendered obsolete. Bill’s quillings are a patriarchal scandal. His iambs lack that fresh, progressive beat. Barred from Avon is his current handle. As lost as Lear, as dead as Desdemona, His wonder will no longer soar on high. Now robots can compose, the Swan’s a goner. His dusty folios have bid goodbye. They’ve shuffled off like Hamlet and poor Yorick. Alas, the Big-Tech Bods now canonize...

. A Picture of Repose A young boy’s seated on a wall that overlooks Capri, an oil painting by Dane Peter Vilhelm Carl Kyhn, where a rock ridge arises over architextured walls, with arches, domes and towers over roof and mason sprawl. The landscape artist captured a sweet momentary peace,...

. Standing Up The screech of an eagle __Will marshal our senses And, if reckoned regal, __Refocus our lenses __On many events That we blithely ignored __When we kept to our tents, Hypothermic and bored. As a matter of focus, __It’s best to remain In the proximate locus __Of brawn...

. Friendship When was it first struck up? Nobody knows. It’s carried us through heydays, drabs, and falls. An unsown balm, ex nihilo it grows Like capers from the cracks in old stone walls. Previously published in The Lyric. . . Rhyme of History So-called public opinion has forced common sense Into the...

. Historical Negation A pen works wonders. Just ink in, scratch out. Rewrite what people learn about the past. Repeat false facts, promote a fabrication--- Voila! You’ve aced historical negation. You don’t need to be truthful if you shout; Plus changing history can be a blast. Just snap your fingers,...

. La Pompe Funèbre Félix François Faure, President of the French Republic, died on February 16, 1899 in his chambers at the Palais de l’Elysée, while being fellated by his mistress Marguerite Steinheil. Forever after, Madame Steinheil was known as La Pompe Funèbre, which in French can mean either “funereal...

. Senryu on Free Thought . I. As storied Kipling Is stricken from pupils’ tales I feel his burden . II. Arise Dame Roseanne From the inquisitor’s stake Comedy’s phoenix . III. Young Harry Potter Burnt by Mountain Dew addicts Still safe on my shelves . Editor's Note: See the difference between...

. Worse Than Widowed They’ve made us widows while we’re still alive. I’m not allowed to see my wife, although She isn’t sick; the head nurse told me so. (I know, of course, she’s sick with lack of love, As I am. It’s a deadly heartache.) Five Whole months ago,...

. Growing Up . Starving Children in China If you don’t eat the food that’s on your plate ....I will, in turn, assert That you will be excused—no need to wait— ....For you won’t get dessert. . Crime and Punishment Your sister says that you were rude. Until you change...

. Just Words The more we are together dear, __I fear… can love suffice? Of late I find you’re cavalier __And not so very nice. Your nonstop nag-nag-nagging __Is a never-ending drain, Your tongue a-wag-wag-wagging __Dear, is driving me insane. The more we are together my sweet, __The less I...

. Restoration of Nôtre Dame One Paris evening seven years ago, We walked the neighborhood of Nôtre Dame, But no café had seats. We settled on A bench with the cathedral as tableau, Congenial scene our hearts cannot outgrow. Could we imagine it might soon be gone, A ruined temple...

. Acceptance Relationships are courses in which You should not enroll, If changing other people is your Pre-existing goal. . . When One Overrides Twenty-Six It started in first grade as I recall. Our son told us strange tales about some kid, Who yelled and sang, and sometimes smacked a...

. The Little Knight The kitchen door slams open wide; The boy flies through to play outside. His house becomes his castle’s walls; The distant car horns, clarion calls. A stick becomes a mighty sword; The bushes, an invading horde. He charges with his battle cry, Defending home, sword brandished...

. Cryogenic Freezing from the conclusion of A Gallery of Ethopaths Let’s end on a deathly note To grab my readers by the throat. When ethopathic nonsense reigns It keeps a populace in chains, And though touched by death’s icy mitt, An ethopath’s a mindless twit. A lot of half-baked...

. Three Denarii OBO For Sale: One ten-foot wooden cross. Good cedar, cypress with some pine. The owner selling at a loss. Used once, by Rome, to assist dying. Some minor nail holes need repair, The crossbeam rope is slightly frayed, With a few bloodstains here and there. Will sell...

. How Great Thou Art __An Easter Ballade . It’s Easter. I can hear the choir sing. The gospels have been prayed upon and read And now I cheer the news the watchmen bring With shouts of “He is risen!” I am led Up to the altar where through wine...

. After the Storm All darkness past, the sun now shines Through shredded storm clouds drained of rain; Its bright beams crown, as day declines, The Victor’s head, now free of pain– That holy head, which for my good Was first pierced by a thorny crown, Now bows in peace,...

. Hymn I met Him on that Sunday afternoon I trod the Kentish cobbles through the streets Of Rochester past dwellings in the gloom Of fog laced with the waft of teashop treats. I entered the cathedral with a heart As heavy as its chilly walls of stone. I heard the organ stir and choir start To launch the lilt of Heaven’s work of art. That sabbath, seeds of...

. . The Shroud of Death The shroud of death’s night-shadow fled Before the dawning light of day; Unveiling tombs wherein the dead In grave and solemn stillness lay. And earth-life voices stirred the air With gentle breeze and creak of limb. And morning reached a garden where The birds...

. Of St. Vitus Cathedral, Prague Once I used to live a waking dream Devoid of starlight: lanterns on the hill Betwined the huddled palaces which gleam In reverence to the crown cathedral’s will. I saw her from my window in those days; From everywhere. From alley, square, and park;...

. Deconstructing Grűnewald’s Crucifixion It isn’t de rigueur these days to show A bloodied, tortured Jesus on the cross. Post-moderns would prefer we came to know Him as innocuous instead of gross. No sympathy allowed, but go ahead And drown him in a jar of urine, mock Him as irrelevant—just...

. The Faithful Who Have Chosen Not to Wait He rose and told us He would come again To supervise a world of righteous men And women who believed in what He’d said, That both the living and the wakened dead Should nevermore of chrism be bereft. But what of...