Found Poems

. Old Clem In his novel Great Expectations, Charles Dickens refers to a song sung by blacksmiths at the forge "Old Clem," which plays an important role in the story. It is unclear whether Dickens invented this song or if it already existed; and if it already existed what it...

. If You Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter If solidified oil with chemical clutter That helps it look yellow and tasty to eat Makes you think there’s no need to believe it’s not butter, You believe in modernity’s biggest deceit. If you think things can just be replaced with a...

. At Thirteen At thirteen, I received a birthday card from Buffalo, my aunt sent my Dad’s poem he’d written at thirteen.  Our plain back yard picnic table became a podium as I savored every word… “Oh for a good old Summer’s day / with no cares in my way.”...

. Race and Color, 1992 I see white and you see black and other shades of skin in fact. Though we have different colored skin, we're very much alike within. Our blood is red and I must say: "We love and hurt no different way". All humans grow in mother's...

. Calendar Poems by Margaret Coats January loves what goblets hold, And February complains of cold. March plows the fields with furrows new, And April nurtures each flower’s hue. Dew on the grass, and leaves above, prepare May’s beds for sylvan love. June produces its fresh, sweet hay; July makes...

. Two Empty Chairs “We did the NFP bit for awhile ... and have felt revulsion over it ever since. During that time we might have had at least two more children.”  ---Letter to the Editor, Seattle Catholic, 2002 Two empty chairs, each in its place— The kitchen table’s vacant...

. Introduction In a second-hand bookshop, located in the French Quarter (New Orleans), I discovered a poetry book by Margaret Hunt Brisbane (1858-1925). It had been in mid spring of 2005, a couple of months before Hurricane Katrina sorely afflicted New Orleans. I sensed that Mrs. Brisbane’s pure verse and...

Selected by Beverly Stock ---From Liver Pills to stuff that kills, and makes it smooth to die, The last is not their mission, though, and yet within their power, But if you’re sick--go to them quick, or you may rue the hour, You kept on monkeying with fate, and deemed...

The Painting of the Virgin God, seeing in America a child Embracing Faith with jubilation meet, Took up His paints, and on a flowered sheet By His own hand a portrait deftly styled, For He intended Jesus' Mother mild To be that favored Nation's mercy seat, Whence He would issue...

In the first World War, taking and holding the high ground was everything. The battle of Messines Ridge, in Belgium, took place June 7-17 1917. It took 81 years until the Irish Peace Park was unveiled there to acknowledge the sacrifice of combatants from the whole island of Ireland during...

by James A. Tweedie On my most recent visit to England in 2017, I paused to record a number of prominent grave monuments that included poetic tributes to the deceased. Here are the four I found most interesting from the standpoint of poetry. No doubt those of you who live...

  Carmen Cygni, a Retourne She holds the sickle and the scythe, Dark clothed and hooded, glimpse of white. A dancer languorous but lithe, She stands between the day and night. Dark clothed and hooded glimpse of white, Peitho beguiles by danse charnelle. She calls defiant, but contrite As fears...

Believe It True That you have made my world a wondrous garden Fair with your lips, and glad with your eyes of blue That you have wakened life’s song of gladness Believe it true, dear, believe it true. That I have found within that wondrous garden All passing hours made...

Presented by Monty Phillips Given that the recent days have been rightfully occupied by the remembering of the humans who never made it home from World War 1, I thought I might highlight a less represented species; many of whom also never made it home from that War. It’s said...