Poetry

  Confession It’s not so much the telling of my sins (The inner battle stations I’ve assigned To flesh and spirit and the latter’s sad Retreats) that makes the air go thin- Then-thick, the box feel so confined. It’s not so simple as just feeling bad. It’s more, I think,...

  Religious Poetry, and Religionist Poetry by Joseph S. Salemi When a literary critic touches on matters of religion or religious subjects in poetry, he must walk a very hazardous tightrope. Poetry, by its very nature, can deal with whatever subject the poet finds congenial or suitable; and no critic...

  The Zingers of Adam Sedia A Review Sedia's New Work The Opening of the Mouth and Other Books by Theresa Werba I have had the pleasure of reading the poetry of Adam Sedia for many years, and additionally had the pleasure of a face-to-face meeting at the SCP Symposium...

  A Paradox They're all too sharp and bright. Sedulous kids. Rich parents raised them. Teachers, old and wise, preserve their greatness. Even fate forbids ill luck from harming them. Wealth in their eyes. Their days are filled with butter, nights with cream, and afternoons with friend groups having cars...

  A Prayer of Aristotle "Anyone who wonders whether we ought to honour the gods needs a whipping." ―Aristotle Our twelve great gods I serve with veneration, Pay tribute as accustomed rites suggest, And sing glad paeans pleasing in effect. But reverent reason finds unification Of countless godly spirits coalesced...

  The Sparrow It started in the dark and early hours. Kyiv—asleep, enjoying blissful dreams. Then missiles streaked. Explosions. Debris showers. Smashing walls and windows. Sirens. Screams. Ivan recalled this, walking Podil’s streets. No patrons enjoying coffee and cigarettes. Abandoned stores were still. Some rubble heaps. He wept to see...

  Chemo Refusal Doctor’s gown off. He looks again. Goes tough, speaks plain: "It’s back. Aggressive. Don’t deny. Without the chemo you will die." The patient’s striking. Coal-black hair. A mouth on fire. Some adults stare. Married. Two kids dressed with flair. Teaches math. Her children stare. "When first discovered,...

  Deliverance Upon the bank, this waters wave, _And beckon you, "Come wade." You step into the chilly stream _And sip spiked lemonade. The current flows around your waist. _You think, "Why be afraid?" You feel sand shift below your feet. _The torrent’s swift and strong. You turn to face...

  Rain I felt like walking in the rain, _Can’t say exactly why. I make great efforts in the main _To stay completely dry. But once you’re wet it feels just fine _So you can stroll or chat, No more a worry than sunshine. _Most fears are much like that....

  The Story of a Plague I sorrow at the darkness of the news Of mortal pestilence and storms of shame. I watch scoundrels fighting to hide from blame Or blur their definitions to confuse The madness that has led to deaths, not mine, Not yet (that’s still impending), but...

  Javert Derailed —In Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, the police inspector Javert faces a moral crisis when the fugitive he chased for so long saves his life The outlines are fierce by the great river Seine, And are sketched out in moonbeams with chalky clear white, Where Javert stands above...

  People Forget "Being unable to cure death, misery and ignorance, men have decided, in order to be happy, not to think about such things."  ---Blaise Pascal, Pensées People forget: that empires end, That after singing, silence starts; That after every party's joy We part, and blight destroys our heart....

  Good and Evil The professor was so proud Of his knowledge and his theories. He loved to prod his students With his question and his queries. “If God is only good. Then how can evil exist? God must then be evil, And that’s why evil persists. “If God created...

  The Royal Arse Hortillery Behold the English army as it marches off to war, Where the musket balls do whistle, and the mighty cannon roar. But there you’ll find them at the back, a motley bunch I fear, The Royal Arse Hortillery are bringing up the rear. They’ve been...

  Who Hears a Robot's Prayer?   I. He said the stones themselves would start to sing But no one could have guessed where this might lead--- Now prayers are offered by a crafted thing, A soulless creature---not of Adam’s seed. A supplicant which cannot weep or bleed. We see...

. WHO Anyone in the world, of any age or background, may participate (SCP Membership not required). Among members of the Society of Classical Poets, everyone including Advisory Board members may participate, if not involved in judging the contest. The winner, if not a U.S. resident, must have a PayPal...

  I This mystic draw, these pangs I feel for you--- Are they mere sparks, the scent of pheromones, Complex reactions deep within our bones Compelling what transpires between us two? Or is it something science never knew, Unreached by every method it condones, The greatest of its myriad unknowns,...

  Rasputina Confers with Her Cohorts “Rasputina” is the feminine form of the Russian name Rasputin. He of course was the religious impostor who gained a malign influence over the Romanov family, and used it to manage important political decisions and state policy in Russia. He also enriched himself, and...

  Warfare by Remote Control Babies are screaming from the night time sky, preventing sleep amidst the blasted homes; twenty-four seven, there’s a buzz on high, dipping and diving when a person roams. Leaflets, like litter from an autumn tree, fluttering groundward, strewing pockmarked roads, tell dispossessed folk, “Again, you...

The Passing Place me not in a bed at my dying; _I'd rather a bench by the sea Or a patch of green grass in a meadow _Where blossoms rejuven the lea. Let me draw my last breath to the whisper _Of breezes aswirl and adrift; Maybe sigh and then...

  Of Webs and Whispers   I. The Myopic Eye ---a pantoum A spider spinning scripture for the flies--- It thrives on every speck and faintest stain. Its keyhole squint is where its wisdom lies. It threads its venom through the heart and brain. It thrives on every speck and...

Reviewed Poetry Book: Canzoniere by Petrarch, Translated by A.M. Juster, Liveright (Norton) Publishing, 2026 by Margaret Coats A.M. Juster, longtime member of the Society of Classical Poets, has completed the only full English translation of Petrarch’s Canzoniere in formal verse corresponding to the Italian original. Why read it? In reading...

  What Folly Dares What folly dares inflict its spectral pow’r To grieve my love and I who burn to love her? For some deceit has in this bitter hour Transformed me into a forsaken lover. Where once the light and heat of love prevailed Now darkened chill of scorn...

  Allegrezza In the harbor, the masts tilt left and right like metronomes conducting waltzes made of wind and wave, while on the shingle, gulls pluck whelks from briny nooks, their gullets pulsing hard to gulp the rubbery flesh. The shroud-light dims, diminuendo made of mist descends, and all the...

  The Lessons of Lot How long had my watch lasted at the city gate? For days (or weeks? or months?) I’d scanned the endless fields In search of some dim hope, some needed twist of fate From what I knew was due, and soon would be revealed: A fear...

  Prophecy and Divine Intervention in Virgil’s Aeneid. by Kaitlyn Brown The divine, represented through both the supernatural power of prophecy and through divine intervention, plays a very important role in The Aeneid, by Virgil (70-19 B.C.). Prophecy and divine intervention constantly influence Aeneas’s journey and there are many examples...

  The Last Voyage of Barnaby Bear When first the winter twilight dimmed the pane And rain beat softly on the nursery wall, I spread a blanket like a royal train Along my shoulders at adventure's call. My bed became a ship beneath full sail, Its wooden posts rose tall...

  Impressions How often are impressions deemed profound, Accepted fully, carried all around, And stated with assertive satisfaction, From merely a few moments’ interaction?     The Hand of God I have felt the hand of God Securely on my shoulder, With comfort of His staff and rod More clearly...

  The Reveal of the Rocks The August days of summer weighed in full Upon us, green and heavy with sweet scents. That month had seen a drought--the worst in years; The brook beside our farm had ceased to flow. Just trickles now where springtime melts had rushed, Stones long-submerged...

  Art Work First thing each morning, Susie makes the bed. I should say, “sculpts the bed”, because she treats this effort as a work of art instead of just a chore. With care, she works the sheets back into place and smooths them with her hands. From side to...

  A Strange Sun The ships sailed up the river’s mouth, Against a steely, clear-eyed gale, Far from the vineyard of the south, The olive grove and terraced vale. So different from their native lands Appeared, unto each legionnaire, The green hills wrapped in silver bands. And somehow, so much...

  Shave Off Those Whiskers _I do not understand Why some men don’t shave their whiskers. _A beard or a mustache Will turn you into harried risktakers. _You never know what’s hiding Entombed inside a bushy beard— _A fly or spider’s parts? I’ve heard it’s true though it sounds weird....

  The Man from China The man from China struts around D.C. And silences the chatter about tariffs. He says, “You’ll like this deal, just wait and see, Call off your trade-war words and snooping sheriffs.” His pocket’s full of cash and oily deals; Just do not talk of how...

  The Ballad of the Ghost Mountain Boys ---to the “Ghost Mountain Boys” of World War II— especially the Iowa farm boy who was my grandfather.   Prologue There was a day that unawares awoke the world from sleep and sent it witless out to fight with devils in the...

  The Threat of Virtue Falun Gong, which has faced persecution since July 20, 1999, has three main principles: Truth, Compassion, and Forbearance. In China, practitioners are robbed of their organs, which are sold by the state. The State will not allow pursuit of truth Or tolerate a mind that...

  A Poet at the Tower Ah, what a perfect, golden, autumn day. The headsman’s brought the bearded ax, I see. The cocksure ravens strut like popinjays. The river shimmers like a bright malmsey. Make haste and strike; let’s have it done, prithee. The grass, the gentle breeze, the stark...

  Florence Foster Jenkins “A Jenkins recital was never exactly an aesthetic experience--- only to the degree that an early Christian among the lions provided aesthetic experience; it was chiefly immolatory, and Madame Jenkins was always eaten in the end." ---William Meredith Carnegie Hall, New York. October 25, 1944. High...

  WINNERS & RANKINGS The Great American Poetry Competition Judged by Andrew Benson Brown, Joseph Bottum, Margaret Coats, Evan Mantyk, Arthur Mortensen, Joshua Philipp, Mark F. Stone . Henry Longfellow Ode & Ballad Grand Prize Prize Winner ($1,500) Hymn – Joseph Charles Mackenzie   Finalists Tier 1 ($250) The Melody...

  The Gold Star Mother “Dear Mom, Dad, Billy and Baby Sis, It’s rough out here but I’m with some great guys. We look after each other, so mom, I’m well taken care of. Believe it or not, there’s no place I’d rather be. I finally found the place where...

  An American Dash There are two dates on a headstone: the date we’re born, and then the last. And between them there’s a little dash reflecting every day that’s passed. A little dash that represents our life--- all the smiles, and all the tears, all the minutes that turned...