Poetry

Burn the want out of every moment, Live the life of every chorus line, Run the race of countless ancient athletes, In them, fortitude breeds counter decline. Stream the smoke throughout every fire, Glide beyond every deterrence, Sew binding thoughts as reasons to aspire, Years of struggle shed light on...

To the Caged Barn Owl, II I had thought you clean and blameless, Blindly cast you as the shameless Victim of baseless derision, Gaped at in your iron prison, Left unromantic and nameless. I assumed your capture aimless. Cruelly kept, they watched you regress, Innocence made heavy laden, I had...

Oh Beautiful glorious day, Let your sunlight shine on me! Let your many clouds of gray Fade above the lovely sea. Let the mountains in the distance Shine such vibrant purple glows. Let all beauty show existence, While your streams give steady flows. Let the trees stand proud and tall...

  I This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heaven’s eternal King, Of wedded maid and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing, That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his...

The seasons go a'marching by In all their different ways. I never do appreciate The way they change my days. The Spring goes dancing by this year With life and beauty grand. But off she goes away from me To other spacious lands. The Summer came with pomp this year...

The plaintive wail of a child through the night Is a beastly howl, proclaiming its plight. The song of the wind through fractured grasses Echoes my tread on edge of disasters. This may be one fine way of singing it Life, death, love is the blood of the poet. We...

Rituals of Shade Drowsy hang the blooms of light, descending slowly to a night That wanders in and out of me, the shadowed truths of what will be Forever painted in its shade, each velvet promise that was made Beneath cobalt and crimson skies, without regrets or compromise When arms...

This poem is meant to raise awareness about the atrocity of organ harvesting from Falun Gong practitioners in China today. Please click here to sign a petition to the White House. (Featured image above is "Organ Crimes" by Xiqiang Dong, 2007) I. A new form of evil unknown to man...

Current Events 2012   I.  The Dark Knight Rises in Colorado A silhouette is forming in the door. From reel to real, the armor comes alive! As bullets rain, we cower on the floor. How can we hide from this attack?  Survive? Staccato gunshots punctuate our air. The desperate screams...

NEW YORK—A planned monument to President Dwight Eisenhower in Washington, DC funded largely by taxpayer dollars has been put off until next year amid controversy over the design. Now, while one modern architect’s extravagant vision for the memorial has come under fire, a classical sculptor is publicly putting forward a...

To Be a Bird To foil the grab of gravity, To sail across the spaces Engendered by the cavity Between the mountain faces. To laugh at man’s ineptitude, His crawling, earthbound gait. To wing in silent solitude And at the summit wait While human snail ascends in pain. To flee...

Adrift I spy your pain vast as the briny blue. I smell the creosote that seals your hold, but don’t let enmity be what you rue in logging a life’s voyage when you’re old. S.S. Resentment is a mutinous ship of blaggards bent on vengeance, lust and greed since first...

My Grandfather-mining it made him blind and mystery of music almost gave him sight he would play by candle light and demand rapture as eloquent as an owl in flight from himself and the flame survives the wick lighting up a reverie as he dreams about his fruit tree and...

Learning to Flourish for Dan DeNicola Are we humans half empty or half full? A race of oxymorons, we’re wise fools Or doltish sages, subject to the pull Of appetite and passion, flouting rules Of reason and decorum on a whim, The urgings of perverse or selfish drives That make...

Imagine a childhood as tragic premiere. Unwashed, bruised, soiled clothing, still she’s a star. The cops and the guy passed out in the chair, minor roles; mom’s off-stage, but won’t be far. The stage: her home, the scene dirty and dark; with props like beer cans and needles, please look...

American oil painter Susan Fox has traveled the world on wildlife expeditions, photographing and painting her way through the pristine wilds of Kenya and all over North America. But a 2005 trip to Mongolia opened a door to a captivating world and propelled her career down a path closely linked...

The village school is cold and still. Its entrance gate is rusted shut, the playground overwhelmed by sounds of loaded lorries, hissing past, no noise but theirs to fill a school where only shadows come to play. A figure joins the shadow play. It was a life ago, but still...

The Painter Transfixed, I bow before art’s magic splendour, enraptured by the glory of such hues, enchanted, charmed beyond all human measure, possessed by master’s clarity of muse - transported to a scene of worldly wonder, the light expressed within, a living thing - colors bold to capture mood asunder,...

There are so many different ways to behave And yet we often behave in just one. There are so many different types of “depraved” but the most dangerous is simply just “fun”. People uphold certain lies that they tell and will stick with those beliefs until death, even if it...

A Squinting gaze through the fog and the haze A glimpse at a shimmer while in a daze Brief yet bright, its beauty light is luring Something has gotten the spirit stirring Awaken you, my forgotten real goal Time to return to the home of my soul Finding a path,...

Mycenae Passing through the lion-headed gate, years fall from her shoulders like heaps of old rags. Even in the innocent daylight, she clearly hears gory echoes reflected in time's murky mirrors and, like courageous Cassandra, she, too, fears the scent of centuries-old blood which still gags. Passing through the lion-headed...

Relatively young artist Erik Koeppel walks in the footsteps of giants from the Hudson River School. The below is from his latest blog entry on his current exhibition: "Those who know my work know that I show and sell frequently beside historic artwork, particularly beside 19th Century American Landscape Paintings...

Argument from Design God’s antelopes have eyes placed far to side And horizontal pupils, features they Employ to see wide spans and speed away From lurking predators they’ve easily spied. But carnivores, with eyes in front of face And pupils vertical, see straight ahead, Are sharply focused on the beast...

Sonnet If I could choose to quietly slip away and make my exit while your backs are turned I'd do it now, why waste another day, after my time is up and all my books are burned? And yet the sun beats bright, and life is sweet and there are...

NEW YORK—As a fine arts painter, Stone Roberts had all the right conditions growing up, including severe myopia as a child. This may seem ironic, but it makes sense given that a hallmark of Robert’s paintings is that everything seems to be in sharp focus, whether the object is in...

The purple snail (Purpura patula pansa) is found in the Mixtec villages of the Oaxacan Coast in Mexico. The inhabitants carefully bleed the snails and then return them to the rocks. But due to illegal dyeing and the consumption of snails, the purple snail is now threatened with extinction.  ...

The Playground The playground stands beside itself In grey, and waits upon the hill. The books are stones upon the shelf, Their spines are sealed against the chill. Still, the forgotten souls might try To steal away, when light of day Recedes, and float upon a sigh, To climb the...

Famous British writer, philosopher, and composer Roger Scruton reaches an above average level of aesthetic clarity here in this inspiring documentary: https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=UfZ7pDwC5h0 Scruton believes that beauty in art does matter and that the modern art of the 20th century has largely lost that beauty. A BBC documentary from 2009 vividly...

Ballade for Trains They are no more, the whistles’ longing wails, Retreating like a stately, mournful queen. Where are the smokestacks that left fading trails, The blackened engine with its oiled sheen, Imposing in its tons, unfazed, serene, The ties in creosote, the polished rails? I hear their bell, and...

At Rainbow's End At rainbow’s end, I looked for gold; And still I search, Alone and cold: The rainbow’s gone And now I’m old.   The Hooves that Thundered The hooves that thundered on the roof, An awful sound to hear; And when the mighty steeds arrived, My heart was...

She swings huge plates and spins colliders, Shoots particles at stars to drown, (Slides coins from ears and tax providers Which wane and wax from head to gown.) She juggles charms, scales fractal spaces, Disapproves as proofs wave down; Attaches sums to umpteen places, Makes patent claims her stamping ground....

Tipping Point In our millenium's first dozen years, they say we’re headed for a tipping point -- a disastrous sum of many fears when Nature herself will crash and disjoint. It’s not the Mayan calendar that’s cause, nor the Sun’s circumstantial alignment, but our careless consumption without pause and our...

By Julie Catherine Vigna Sonnet III:  Beginnings In bare and dusty feet she wields her broom With none save cat, and creatures of the light To break the days spent work-worn in the gloom Or twilight by the cinders, black as night Her clothes just rags, and meagre scraps for...

Carrying a Torch for Rhyme Rhyming is out, some poets say You can’t express yourself that way For when you try for perfect rhyme With metered words and rhythmic time It’s writing to a metronome You lose the essence of the poem A poem that you can understand They say,...

By Loetta Meister   Virginity Tender petals Tightly curled Make a rosebud Not unfurled Tender hearted Little girl Petals waiting To uncurl Lovely woman Perfect rose Given to the Man she chose   Spectrum I'm pink with joy green with envy, I'm blue and sad, my colors many. The spectrum...

Enough There is a God sized hole within the innermost regions of every soul. Its dark, and it is deep, its shadows are weeping with the gnashing of teeth. We try our vain restraints to fill its desires, trying to compensate things that take us higher. Vestiges fellowship, forever searching...

I’ve heard it said more than once now about today’s art market and it’s worth repeating: the emperor has no clothes! The classic Hans Christian Andersen tale tells of the king convinced that he is wearing a fine suit that he cannot see. His people cannot see it either but...

Chasing the Devil I’m losing sight of what I want. I’ve lost the things I need. Danger one step ahead of me, I can’t help but proceed. Why am I drawn to such a life that brings me to my knees? Where is the strength to stand up tall, Deny...

By Neal Whitman The reckoning at end of day. Upon a bench two minstrels meet to split the payment equally. The reckoning at end of day. Some beef and stout for each in play. (The old guitar is known to cheat.) The reckoning at end of day. Upon a bench...

A Cold Truth If Love can move mountains I could move the Earth My Heart as a fountain We would never thirst If your Heart were the Sun I'd never be cold Away, I would not run With you I'd grow old Alas, it's not the case I'll accept the...