all poems by Bruce Dale Wise


The Pilot

by Air Weelbed Suc

I saw him flying overhead, a pilot in a plane,
and looking down, he gazed upon the anguish and the pain.
Although I saw compassion in his eyes, as he flew on,
he still prepared to launch the missile loaded with a bomb.
It was his job, the orders came from someone down below.
He had been told to open up the hatch and let it go.
O, I believe he felt remorse, but he continued on.
He shoved the lever forward in that armageddon spawn.
He let it go and watched it drop down through those distant skies,
but I could see he felt remorse in those phlegmatic eyes.



To Love or Not to Love

by R. Lee Ubicwedas

To love or not to love is not the question one should ask.
To love’s the answer…
that’s expressed in thoughtful, heartfelt acts.
To love is to be intimate to those you truly love,
but also to your enemies below and God above.
To love yourself will help you love the others that you meet.
To love another person, then, will help you feel complete.
There are so many things to love, like life and love itself,
to love to sleep, to love to play, to love to be a help.
O, love’s not spacetime’s fool, love is a sparkling attitude
that finds itself in happiness, in joy, and gratitude.



I Have Not Made a Monument

by Aedile Cwerbus

I have not made a monument more durable than bronze,
or higher than the pyramids, or lovelier than swans.
I have no great memorial as powerful as rain,
as strong as wind, as lasting as time’s ever-destined reign.
And I shall wholly die, no part of me escape death’s bite;
like vestal virgin and high priest, I shall succumb to night.
Without renown, I’ll dwell where Alf the sacred river ran,
in twilight’s desert kingdoms, poorer than the poorest man.
I did not bring Greek rhythms to our tongue, Melpomene,
so likewise toss those dry-leafed laurels you have offered me.


Melpomene: the Muse of Tragedy 

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6 Responses

  1. David Watt

    I enjoyed reading your trio of poems Bruce.

    ‘To Love or Not to Love’, with its fifteen ‘love’ instances, must hold some sort of record.

    ‘I have Not Made a Monument’ has some particularly effective lines, including: And I shall wholly die, no part of me escape death’s bite;
    like vestal virgin and high priest, I shall succumb to night.

    Also, bronze and swans make for a striking rhyme pair.

  2. Leo Zoutewelle

    Bruce, I leave details to others; I just wanted to tell you that I admire your poetry in this submission.

  3. Peter Hartley

    Elidia Sub-Rook – I liked all three of these. The first shows how much observation and detail a poet can cram into a fleeting moment. The third I particularly enjoyed and it told me by your meter and rhyme that I have been putting the stress on the wrong syllable in Melpomene for as long as I can remember.

  4. C.B. Anderson

    Indeed, Bruce, these are some of the best poems of yours I have read. And especially, the rhymes were satisfyingly “ortho.” David Watt is absolutely spot-on about the swans/bronze thing. If I’d had that rhyme sitting in my head, then I might have written a poem just for the purpose of using it.

  5. Lew Icarus Bede

    Of the three tennos Mr. Mantyk has selected to post, the first poem draws from Yeats, the second from Shakespeare; but it is the third that is most classical in its conception and execution, in its purpose and result. It also demonstrates what I am seeking in my poetic vision, albeit in a condensed form.

    The elements of the poem are relatively straightforward even if its purpose is not, and both bear consideration. Its alliteration is quiet and remote, as in key terms, like monument, memorial, Melpomene and me, its similes faint and unobtrusive, and its rhyming couplets fairly ordinary. The rhyme noted by Mr. Watt and Mr. Anderson is important for the contrasts set up in the poem.

    In the next few days I might (perhaps not) do an analysis of the poem; but right now I am researching and working through T. S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets” in the context of our present moment. “Little Gidding” has been throwing up significant obstacles. And then I have another long poem I want to work on, which may or may not come to fruition. It is the longer works that are the most vexing and recalcitrant.

  6. B. S. Eliud Acrewe

    “Coronal” has been complete for about a month; but no editor is interested in it.


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