Poetry

. Uninvited Guest A man came by my house one day. I smiled and said he couldn’t stay. He smiled right back and said “OK,” but then he didn’t go away. Instead, he walked right through my door and put his clothes inside a drawer. He took the room least...

. The Number 235: The Fall Sludge in extremis  ‘Twas on the 235 at Feltham Station, It happened in the very recent past, That Sludge began to think about salvation And how he really ought to find it fast. While gazing blankly at the floor below him A figure in...

. A Psalm of Lament So says the Lord: A voice is heard on high, lamentation, bitter weeping, Rachel weeping for her children, she refuses to be comforted for her children for they are not. ---Jeramiah 31 In Israel a voice was heard, Lament and bitter weeping. For Rachel’s heart...

. Sacandaga I go, I go to the lake so blue, Tree-lined shore in autumn hue. This place, my heart, my Shangri-la-da— The deep blue lake of Sacandaga. The morning dawns upon the scene; Its peace replaces every dream. Loudly geese and crows adore The sun's first rays upon this...

. One of England’s best-known poems, “Kubla Khan,” was written by Romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834). Waking from an Opium-induced dream, he was 55 lines into this epic when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. This poem would have been much longer if not for the...

. Ode to the Cello Fingered strings upon the cello Vibrate by the moving bow. Autumn tones in red and yellow Echo from the to and fro Through the eight-shaped box’s hollow, Out the narrow, curving holes. Oaken humming sounds must follow Movements of the bow that rolls. Violins sing...

. For Israel Under Siege Imagine that you live in fear of violent Acts of terror daily---bombs may kill Your friends and family---all you love grows silent As hatred of the Jews makes more blood spill. Imagine that you’ve tried to live in peace With neighbors who deny your right...

. The Man in 2C I’m trying not to make too much of this, But someone in 2C (the floor below) Has walled himself within an edifice Of waste, a rank malodorous abyss In which he sits as insects skitter cross The room and blankly stares upon the loss That...

. Morning Witness To greet the dawn, I crossed a meadow green, still blanketed in jewels of morning dew. I sat upon a rock, still and serene, and watched the sky transform from black to blue. Even before the silhouettes of trees defined the border of the unborn sky, I...

. Not Alexa's President a pantoum on the news story here “The real risk with AI isn't malice but competence.”  —Stephen Hawking Alexa says election fraud took place. She says the 2020 vote was stolen. Alexa’s cyber eye upon the case Found numbers bungled, skewed and spun and swollen. She says the...

. It’s All for Show The Big Guy’s going to build a wall. He’s going to build it strong and tall "Because," he says, "we cannot leave Our border leaking like a sieve." He used to say, “It isn’t sound, They’ll climb it or they’ll go around. Besides, it’s racist...

. The Cabin _Atop the plateau’s rise, __I’m homeward bound, When sights familiar strike my eyes. Come with me---see the scenes I've found. _Turn right off highway 8, __Mount Pleasant Church, Then left, then right, then through the gate Of Dunaway to start your search. _Continue, down the hill __Descend, veer...

. Blocked Though honeyed breezes warm the marble halls on Mount Parnassus, vainly do I search for writing on my January walls— molasses clogs my veins.  A different church, perhaps a fresh sodality of Muses would put things right.  It’s not that mine are quiet— they all speak up at...

. The Lowest Heaven: Canto III of Paradise by Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) translated by Stephen Binns The sun which with first love had warmed my breast ____Beatrice __now showed, in her reproving, proving way, __the lovely truth’s sweet face, all manifest. I lifted more erect my head to say __that...

. Winter Storm in May A High Sierra snowstorm passes through, Injecting winter into springtime May; As frozen fluffs of ermine drift into A world remade in black and white and gray. The once-blue sky anneals into steel And Donner Lake as like a pewter tray; While snow-bound trees bough...

. Village Home after George Enescu's Orchestral Suite no. 3, “Villageoise” Along the tree-lined lane he walks at dusk; What brought him here, he cannot now remember. The chilling breeze, the scent of pine and musk, Suggest a tranquil eve in late September. He saunters slowly, with a sense of...

. Hybrid and Wild All of her life had a meaning, Each section in its compartment. Tenants went through a close screening— Somehow, I got the apartment. She was a prickly old lady— I, a rambling young upstart who Took care she sat where it’s shady And watched as her...

. Introduction This long lyric of short lines has pairs of stanzas linked in rhyme. It is a sequence honoring Gilbert of Sempringham (1083–1189, canonized 1202), founder of the Catholic Church’s only religious order to originate in England. The Gilbertine order included women and men observing strict separation while striving...

. Late Changes Though older people may proclaim __That they intend to change, One should by no means find it strange __If they remain the same. . . Reunion Conversations with dear, old friends sharing Key details on what life’s come to be, Which soon put a firm end to...

. The Song of the Woman Who Bled Mark 5:25-34 When you have no more money you can spend, Then men will tell you, “You cannot be cured.” Though Jesus makes it better in the end, First tribulation has to be endured. The disappointment, when you’ve been assured That medicine...

. Season of Gall and Sticky Listlessness Autumn is upon us here in Texas. Her shy arrival’s destined to perplex us. Just like the voiceless aria of Spring, Fall’s muted presence doesn’t change a thing. All year we bear the brutal blare of heat Drumming to the sear of Summer’s beat, Roasting freckled necks till lobster red And toasting every thirsty flowerbed. Some cannot...

. . Massacre of the Innocents Matt. 2:18, 10:28, 18:10; Psalm 116:15; 2 Mac. 7:29 Why are the fish and fruit stands closed today— Too many soldiers, stationed all around. My God, they’re pulling out their swords! I hear A shriek from Rachel’s mouth, and thud upon The ground. I...

. The Fairy Godmother for Susan Jarvis Bryant The fairy sings so far away and lifts My spirit, day by day through fading light; With every word well measured, clear inspite Of distance, space and time. The season shifts Along with changing faces; yet her voice Remains the same, now...

. The Idealist Who Became an Ideologue a rondeau redoublé To heal the world he treasured this ideal: Unite the many into one great whole. He preached the view that truth is what you feel, Convinced he played a messianic role. He’d speak of virtue. Then he would extol World...

. Writers of the Purple Sage What happened to the music? The writers of the West? The legends of the cowboys? The songs I loved the best? The outlaws and the posse? Please tell me where they went? The ones who shared their stories of their will and testament. I...

. Autumn Summons The wind carries the leaves, And leaves the colors bear; The field prepares the sheaves That hold the sun ensnared. The leaves the colors bear; The colors hold the song That cooler grows the air, As autumn comes along. The colors hold the song That quickens in...

. Victimhood & Narcissism . I. The Joy of Grief “To have a grievance is   to have a purpose in life” ---Alan Coren I bleat and beef with no relief. The joy of grief has served me well. I’m exultation’s ardent thief. I scowl and shout and howl and pout....

. Wood a pantoum It’s only furniture. But that’s both truth and lie. To find Mom’s treasured things a loving new address is near impossible, no matter what I try. Her home’s impending sale exacerbates the stress of finding treasured things a loving new address. The size and weight of...

. Ode to the Strings of My Guitar I How still you sleep, oh strings of my guitar, As if you did not feel the faint caress Of my soft finger, shaped to form a bar; I wish to wake you with a gentle press, So as to hear the...

. The 23 Best Haiku of 2023 Winner and Runners-up of the Society of Classical Poets 2023 Haiku Competition Judged by J. Thomas Rimer and Margaret Coats (see their remarks below) See all entrants here. . COMPETITION WINNER . . . Swallow, an arrow bursts across the burnished blue I cannot...

. Two Dragon Statues Tây Hồ, Hà Nội, Việt Nam, Constructed 2012 They stand on waves just off West Lake’s west bank— two dragon statues—jade ceramic gods commemorating when the Emperor beheld a soaring dragon, Heaven’s sign that Thăng Long should be made the capital, which doomed Hoa Lư, the...

. Sea Breeze Negative ions aloft, Wafting aloft in the breeze. That mystical, maritime breeze Bestowing a comfort and ease. Beautiful, bountiful breeze, Offering more than it seems--- A lift to the spirit and soul, Expansion of whimsical dreams. Blessings abound in the breeze--- Tangible tension relief, Pathway to reason...

. Labyrinthine Bag My wife, bless her heart, went and bought me a bag with tons of compartments, and pouches, and pockets. But searching for stuff is a chore and a drag it takes me forever to locate my dockets. I don't mean to whine, and I do hate to...

. Abortion Notes Please bury babies ripped to parts, Especially their tiny hearts. They’re slain in hiding from our sight. And even scheduled in the night. We never hear the babies’ cries. We cannot see them with our eyes. We do not hear when hauled away In backs of trucks....

. In Eve’s Footsteps based on “Genesis 2: Teaching its Truth to Women” by Kimberly Hartke “And the Lord God said: It is not good for man to be alone: let us make him a help like unto himself. ... And the Lord God built the rib which he took...

. Ponderings on the Porch The chutes of light this autumn day __Beam down between the leaves. Sun’s equinox has long since passed— __Dew drips from grass and eaves. This sacred porch! Secure and safe __From wasps and snakes and mice. Decaying pine straw rides the breeze--- __I sip green...

. In the Park ___It showed up in the green ___Today: that velveteen _Exhaustion that betokens summer’s end, ___Its richness but a sigh ___That warns the passerby _There’s nothing he can do now to defend __Himself against the tale retold— A winter’s tale that’s whispered softly in the cold. ....

. Rhyme Subprime I tend to rant against slant;maybe it’s something I can’t__embrace with affection__or write to perfection but I don’t mean sharing a thoughtin a sensitive way that’s not fraught,__using careful selection__without misdirection so meanings will clearly come throughin the way that I wanted them to,__with proper inflection,__enhancing connection...

. Poets create marvels of linguistic delights about anything and everything… but what about nothing?  Can your Muse capture the essence of nothing? This could be the hardest challenge your Muse has ever faced!  I look forward to reading your take on the subject of "Nothing" in the comments section...

. Out of Purgatory There I went blind. I could no longer speak, but as I died, I murmured Mary’s name, And there I fell and left my empty flesh.   Now hear the truth. Tell it to living men: God’s angel took me up, and Hell’s fiend cried: ‘O...