Culture

. Apollo’s Lament He pounds his naked chest and looks for bones Suspecting that the bay tree is a sham. At last he falls upon his knees and moans “My little doe, my tender dove, my lamb!” He scans the forest but he knows the truth: His longed-for Daphne has...

. Apocrypha Two orbs in hand—one large, one small— He climbed the tower to the top. He let them go and watched them fall, And those below who saw them drop Were dumbstruck when they hit the ground With a loud thud at the same time. The clerics in the...

. Douglas MacArthur, Et Al. Douglas MacArthur waded through the surf, Unafraid to lead his men in battle. Today, they’d rather write a book, tattle On their bosses, and walk on Astroturf. Just sayin’: MacArthur, Nimitz, Halsey— You gotta give ‘em credit: those men were ballsey. . . Joe Biden,...

. A Tale of April 25, 1999 I’d practiced Falun Gong for seven years. It stopped my spine disease’s jabbing spears And repositioned bone and smoothed skin pores. Such cures were far beyond mere earthly scores. The same occurred for many friends of mine Who felt in touch with elements...

. Photo of Uluru / Ayers Rock by the Poet Uluru / Ayers Rock The winter outback chill of mid-Julys Cuts to the bone as waning suns conspire To send their sparks through darkening cobalt skies That set the Dreamtime Uluru on fire. The silent, preternatural display Is backlit by...

. St. George Updated Our age old bold defender __Now an up to date transgender Is consorting with the witless and the woke. He has quit his knight malarkey __Now he hates the patriarchy And our green and pleasant land’s gone up in smoke. He fought the fiercest ogre __Till...

. By George! By George, St. George! You really are a slouch. Arise, pick up your lance, eschew the couch. Like Patrick, Andrew, David, fill our breasts with pride and we shall wear upon our chests your colours---background white, a crimson cross, since of all saints, you’re England’s saintly boss....

. Remembering Ophelia His scathing tongue had thrust her to the edge. It nudged her through the willow’s sunless fringe. She teetered on that petal-littered ledge Where Hades howls and bluest moons unhinge The violet thoughts of agitated minds. The breath of death, it wreathed her in a kiss Of...

. A Call for Secession by Adam Sedia The fine arts currently lie atrophied in utter decline and degradation. Poetry is no exception. Ever since the advent of modernism in the decades leading up to the First World War, traditional aesthetic, which features realism in narrative and depiction and adherence to...

. With Boots On Soon after break of day an old man comes Trudging along the thawing roads of Cottage Country (the common land of day and hope) Considering the analects of Spring. At every unploughed drive where frozen slush Prevents all ingress of the motored sort He pauses, then,...

. The Chained Oak This tale concerns the fifteenth Earl of Shrewsbury, A member of the English aristocracy. With mighty Halls and Castle where he’d often go, Perched high above the river running down below. One day, while on the hunt across his wooded land, Sat proud upon his palfrey,...

. . Shhh… Shanghai trembles at the edge of hell As horror wafts and weaves its way through streets. The moon melts in the flare of terror’s yell--- Hot howls of raw despair till morning greets Locked up souls locked down for safety’s sake As Satan prowls for hearts he burns to break. He gulps the tears the hopeless start...

. One Afternoon One hot Arabian afternoon a boom reverberated through my flat and woke my napping wife and children; in each room the windows shook, but not so much they broke. Two cars with insurrectionists aboard had tried to breach the oil field’s back gate and when they failed,...

. Easter Monday Luke 24: 13 – 35 With hearts eclipsed by Friday’s three-day night And eyes still blinded to their master’s face, They hear his sermon, senseless that his light Has thrown the flames of hell to dark disgrace. The evening sun begins to set its fire, Their hearts...

. The Prince of Peace     He braved each gouging lash and bruising blow Till scourged and bludgeoned flesh was raw and torn--- Paraded in a crown of thorns to show This phony King of Jews was ripe for scorn... How could this meek, defeated wimp be born Of Him who...

. Easter 2022 In silence, night retires with a yawn— Its starlit labor blessed by God’s, “Well done.” And as the weary world awakes to dawn, The auric radiance of the risen sun Illumes a garden where an empty tomb Bears witness to the One no longer there— The Son...

. Sunrise at the Hollywood Bowl A sleepy son, a father who mourned still. Their first time greeting Easter since she died. When illness came, Anne said her fondest will Was that their boy know God. John set aside His doubts. He searched for two seats near the side. John...

. Support the Current Thing Don’t ponder on the horrors of our age. Don’t thumb through all those dusty history tomes. Don’t dally in the dazzle of a sage. Don’t chew on clues and muse like Sherlock Holmes. Don’t scrutinize the motives in Ukraine. Don’t grapple with the rabble on...

. Via Dolorosa for those who have suffered abuse. Where does one go to forget? Where does one go to erase Memories filled with regret? Nightmares of shame and disgrace? What does one do with the pain Abusers and users inflict? The scabs that again and again Peel off where...

. Sepulcher Jerusalem is built of prayer and quarried stone, From yearning, heartache, sacred scrolls and ancient bone--- The shuls, the mosques, the churches, every ancient room. And as a bride prepares with longing for her groom Believers come with downcast eyes, with hopes unknown, To ponder and to pray---or...

. Annunciation It’s not really an angel but a voice, Less heard than sensed, an urgent undertone That murmurs in the place where I’m alone And all my fears with longing there alloys. It whispers that I have to make a choice: To let the world go scrambling on its...

    . https://youtu.be/PguXX2PRzvI . CREDITS Poetry: Emma Lazarus (1849-1887) Voice-Over: Katy Mantyk Photos/Footage: “Unveiling the Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World” by Edward Moran, 1886 (Public Domain) Music: “Slow Walk Into The Sunset” by Alexander Nakarada (www.serpentsoundstudios.com) Licensed under Creative Commons BY Attribution 4.0 License . .  

. The Flowers' Easter Debate Palm Sunday is the Flowers’ Easter, the day when they honored Jesus Christ entering Jerusalem. As they did not need Good Friday’s bloody atonement for sin, the flowers were ready to crown Him. . The Rose Our good Master Comes as Pastor; Our good Master...

. Birdbrains a villanelle   “When you control a man’s thinking you do not have to worry  about his actions.” ---Carter G. Woodson If we just parrot newspeak without blinking And push prize poppycock as logic fails, We’re cuckoo and we’ve given up on thinking. Our minds will end up shriveling and shrinking, Our...

. (See an explanation on what Sibyls are here.) . The Tyburtine Sibyl The Tyburtine sibyl has the iconographic attribute of a hand, indicating her foreknowledge of insults suffered by Jesus. Not from my heart's imaginings do I (A Sabine woman of the waterfall Crashing at Tivoli as a crazed...

. Uncle Sam's Tomb after Samuel Coleridge's "The Knight's Tomb" (see below) Where will the grave of that great figurehead be, That leader of free men and symbol of might, That vision of justice in our country so free, Great defender of all that is wholesome and right? Can he...

. Woman For years I’ve known exactly what it means To own the weight and wonder of my sex--- The crimson flow of knowledge in my teens, The curve and swell---my spell---the heady hex That lures love to the precipice of bliss. I know the grit and guts it took to claw Through...

. The Short-Lived Triumph of the Junior School's Health & Safety Officer The children wait in line to sanitize Their grubby hands before their morning class. The teacher guards the door, and none may pass Without a mask beneath his anguished eyes, Then, once inside, all sullen chatter dies At...

. Share your poetry on currently unfolding Russo-Ukrainian war in the comments section below.  We received a large response on our first post of poetry on Russia's invasion of Ukraine in February, and poets are still actively submitting on this topic, so here is your chance again to share your...

. The Simplest Way to Save the Earth The simplest way for us to save the earth Would be for women to stop giving birth. For when there are no longer any mothers We’ll solve the problem of too many “others.” The truth in this is easy to deduce: As...

. The Hypodermic For a poet, the pen is merely part Of the apparatus of addiction. He emulates the frozen fly in amber Watching eons come, roll by, and pass. As motionless as veined quartz in a stone, He seeks a waxen perpetuity Bound and shackled in his dreamless cell,...

. https://rumble.com/embed/vvm2wt/?pub=4 . Identity Crisis I used to think my body was all woman, My fruitful womb refused to be dismissed. But now I’m not so sure I’m even human--- I’m not a fully trained biologist. I’m failing at cisgender recognition In times when genitalia count for naught. But I...

. From The Burkean: Icarus magazine currently holds the reputation of being Trinity College’s — if not Ireland’s — premier poetry journal… with contributions from Seamus Heaney and John Montague. …our writers concocted various alter egos … to send in the most woeful poetry imaginable, hoping our diverse credentials would...

. Sold I. Summer Honey Crush  Soft, silken lips shone from her screen last night. She saw them, plump and ripe, as smooth and lush As velvet peaches kissed by Sol’s delight. If her smile blushed in Summer Honey Crush She’d beam a flirty grin to light his eyes--- That...

. https://youtu.be/LRxFaGgdazE Our Worthy Sons dedicated to Samuel by Susan Jarvis Bryant Our worthy sons should never be ashamedOf who they are and who they’re meant to be.For far too long men’s gender has been blamedIn wars that weaponize identity. To hell with toxic masculinity—That noxious term indelibly ingrainedIn minds so...

. Ode to Salmon, the Episcopal Fish a poem in honor of Bishop Athanasius Schneider No birdsong greets the chilly damp of dawn In dreary gray autumnal cloud-filled skies, As rosy salmon swim upstream to spawn In gravel beds just where their birthplace lies. November’s whistling wind so briskly blows...

. Dispiration I have nothing to say, Not a thought in my head. If I needed to pray There would be nothing said. Just a large empty space And no functioning brain, With the mouth on my face Filled with nothing worth saying. It’s a bad case of “Writ- er’s...

. The Street Cop's Choice Thanks for coming home to help me choose. I know my kids will always have my back. Today was rough. By now you’ve seen the News--- Such blatant lies! They’ve tied me to the rack. And we still have to see if this guy sues....

. Dueling Violins Yanni, Karen Briggs and Shardad Rohani live at the Acropolis in 1993 Anticipating each half-note he brings to life, her fingers stretch to find the grooves. Perfection springs, as sound is bounced from strings, then quickly as Baryshnikov, she moves. His chords a hurried sequence, devil's notes, seduce...

. Slàinte! Today we’ll lift the Lenten limitations And don our Gaelic garb of kelly green. Bonhomie and glee and lush libations Will flow at dawn and dusk and in between. We’ll pluck a harp and pick a lucky shamrock, Kiss the Blarney Stone and spin a yarn, Eat colcannon, steaming stew, and...