Monthly Archives February 27, 2013

The simple fruit the body once begot To please the supplicating year’s poor sky, Who pleaded tearful, nor did have a plot For bare escapes the heart could dignify, Lived and lost against the winter...

"Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—" —Emily Dickinson A sunlit chair by Michael John Hunt sits in light, inside a house with open door. It's at a foyer corner—shadowed bits upon the greenish wall and...

The losses of this lifetime in retrospect I see Reflect a downward spiral of a flawed society: can we now recapture a mere morality? Erase euphoric rapture of the imperial ME? Delete from daily...

"How the Chimney-sweeper’s cry/ Every blackning Church appalls…” —William Blake, London “The Beijing Cough may not be as bad as the Hebei Hack." —Wu “Sacred Bee” Li   In...

Elegy for a Blush No more does she show her flower; No more does the maiden cower. Snow-white cheek has turned to tawny. All the lads are looking scrawny. On Her cheek she spread her plume: A roseate...

History There’s a story in every piece of history. Each time I probe into a part of history, I see wars, plagues, triumphs, romances, and conflicts Between the poor and the rich. History inflicts Me...

A line that travels down the middle of the scene divides the picture's plane in two: above, the vast and airy openess o' th' arching building, green on top, and filled with golden light and shadows...

Dear Competition Participants, Thank you for your submissions! I am pleased to announce the winner and honorable mentions of the 2012 Society of Classical Poets Poetry Competition: Winner of $1,000...

How that florid scent Wafts through your two vents Making all your senses yield To wilderness in a field. How the petals soft Carry you aloft To the clouds above us all, Lightly float and never...

Anand PKC’s “transcendental realism” is on view now through Feb. 27 at Walter Wickiser Gallery, Manhattan, NY.   Featured Image: A New Day Rising, Oil on canvas, 48" x 34",...

To Plait Celestial Chains They also serve who only stand and wait. - John Milton, “On his Blindness” They also serve who only stand and wait. Ere even days in this dark world and wide, small...

Armor Discard the anxious sheath which guards The balanced song inside Lest ballads deep in ebony Reverberate untied Forgo the throttling winds who sing Their tainted, luring song Face every punch...

By Lew Icarus Bede             It is difficult, if not impossible, to know the state of poetry in any language during its "present period," poetry is such a fluid force, and the best, or the most...

Mount Solitude Snow shelves sit like sentinels Waiting for a tuft-eared lynx Stacked like dishes jutting jewels Balance weights on tiny chinks Dripping in the sun all day Frozen stiff in lunar...

Spring’s Rhyme Colour floods so slowly, Each petal takes its time-- It blossoms near to holy As it enacts Spring’s Rhyme. The petals blush in summer And wither in the fall And wave to each...

PHOENIX—What does a rock formation in New Mexico have to do with an old abbey in France? It’s not the premise of a paperback novel, but a photography exhibit at Phoenix Art Museum. The rock formation,...

My Love, Penelope My love, Penelope, I'm incomplete– You are not here, and I feel so alone; Love is a chore, without you there's no heat, Only dust, mere air, for you're my blood and bone. Victory...