A Grave Sin

by Satyananda Sarangi

How grave’s this sin of man to shatter man!
The human touch is dreaded, faith has fled;
I think of God to find a way and scan
How grave’s this sin of man to shatter man!
An empire built on bricks of blood would span
From corpse to corpse, now dead without the bread;
How grave’s this sin of man to shatter man!
The human touch is dreaded, faith has fled.



Shepherd’s Pie

by Damian Robin

I’ve got all symptoms of the bug.
__That’s what I keep on bleating.
Contrite, I baaa on Doctor’s rug.
__Our consultation’s fleeting.

My grumble pie is not a treat,
__I offer it, but humbly—
My ba-ba cough, my wooly heat—
__I serve it scared and crumbly …

I say I’ve got the crowned prince bug,
__then fear I’m in for scolding.
But doc says all I need’s a hug,
__a close, post-virus holding.


Shepherd’s Pie: minced meat, especially lamb or mutton, and mashed potatoes baked as pie

bleating baa, ba-ba, wooly: referencing the sound or hair/fleece of sheep, considered timid and followers

Doctor’s rug: when someone is ‘on the carpet’ they are usually a subservient person being told off, in trouble [the rug could be made of wool]

grumble pie: hint at ‘eat humble pie’, when someone is forced to retract or apologise for something and so suffers humiliation

crowned prince: reference to the corona, crown, of the CCP virus

NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets.

NOTE TO POETS: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to mbryant@classicalpoets.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here.


4 Responses

  1. James A. Tweedie

    Damian, Be careful, your humor is showing. Not to mention that these days, if someone “baaaed” on my rug (which would be both disgusting and uncivil) I would have it cleaned and sterilized posthaste. Thanks for putting me to bed with a smile.

    • Damian Robin

      A new meaning of baaa for me thanks – related to baaaarrff, I now see. And glad to know of your house hygiene. Makes me feel safe if I should visit when we’ve jumped over the CCP Virus offences. Any dreams?
      Trust you will help the Symposium go well today. I hope to look at the recording.
      Thanks in advance to Evan, the MC from heaven, and other participants and viewers.

  2. Margaret Coats

    Good triolet, Satyananda. The “empire built on bricks of blood” is a striking image, especially in the context where “the human touch is dreaded.” Only human blood spans the distance from corpse to corpse. I would change “the bread” to “their bread,” because I think the personal pronoun underlines that each corpse was lacking basic human needs.

    Damian, I enjoyed your poem and thought of one thing you did not put in your note regarding “crowned prince.” Didn’t the Prince of Wales get the bug–and recover? Not only is he the crown prince of the United Kingdom, but I seem to recall pictures of him wearing a crown from the ceremony investing him as Prince of Wales when he was 21.

    • Satyananda Sarangi

      Hello Margaret ma’am!

      This is the first triolet that I ever tried.
      Thank you for your encouraging words. Stay safe.



Leave a Reply to Margaret Coats Cancel Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.