Monthly Archives January 31, 2025

. Forecast One to Two Inches Within the snow’s approach I sense a hope Connected more to memory than truth. It fails to fall within the narrow scope Of solid message; seems instead a trope For something...

. The Untimely Demise of My Dear Uncle Sam I received the somber news __as sun set low today. My beloved Uncle Sam __by death was swept away. It wasn’t on the battlefield that __he met his demise. ‘Twas...

. Accidents Happen We’re told time tends toward catastrophe, And that a butterfly’s ephemeral wings Might quake the sky somewhere across the sea By strange cascades of simple happenings, Arousing thus a...

. The Discharge of the Woke Brigade ---after Tennyson Half a mil, half a mil, __Half a mil onward, __All from the Treasury ____Filched the encumbered. __‘Forward, the Woke Brigade, __Mooch till the end!’...

. The Settlers —to my forefathers, and all the intrepid men and womenwho settled the Oklahoma panhandle. Across these barren hills, the cold winds blow,As bitter now as in those days long past,When first...

. Rather Drown Than Hang “He who is destined for the gallows will not be drowned.” ---Russian proverb A lethal thing, the writ of man _that soaks this realm like rain, from the code of Hammurabi _to the...

. 1. A rainbow diced to tease unhurried brains __With rotating rows of parallel planes. What is it? . 2. With no known cure, this blight Bends down what was upright Makes distant things draw near While close...

. Wisdom and Sway Life was tranquil and calm, not a care, not a qualm, in a town not too near you, but not far away. It was led by a mayor, a powerful player, a grandiose mayor with wisdom and sway. We’d...

. In line with its mission to preserve humankind's artistic traditions, the Society of Classical Poets is featuring the best of artwork submitted recently by high school students. This artwork uses a...

. Snow Sonnet Where silent flakes of whiteness fill the air And cutting winds of winter come to rule The bitter storm of new year strips all bare With iciness at once perfect and cruel. We drift into an...

. The Great Rub-off Norm and Zip, in mismatched chairs, __were sipping tea and talking, when Desi, their loyal hound, said, “Listen, __you’re shedding like me!” (How shocking!) Norm spat out his...

. Mexican Sestina Perhaps I left because I got too bored, and no one could put sense in my thick head, or talk me out of trekking to the beach by reading newsclips of prolific death by drug cartels or...

. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Silently beats an invisible clock. Night turns to day, day turns to night. Following a metronome nowhere in sight. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Sixty seconds make a...

. Autumn Twilight Full moon. Crickets singing. Scarlet sky.Long past summer solstice; now the sunDescends before the short day’s work is done.Last light and fast-invading violet vieTo shape inconstant...

. The Introvert Sequestered in an abstract mood,Replete in blissful solitude;Behind the veil of scenes overtYou’ll find the pensive introvert. You may not find him center stage,The Hercules of any age;But...

. Rattler ---inspired by Master Bedroom, Andrew Wyeth, 1965 The walls and windows unadorned, the bedkept neatly made, the blanket smooth as cream,two feather pillows, perfect for his headto rest against, eyes...

. Libra There in my hand I held a crystal vial Of distillation potent, red, and sweet, By which my broken heart was put on trial, And golden apples scattered at my feet. Ask not the name of him who gave to...

. On Bill Mahrt’s Retirement as Choirmaster of the St. Ann Choir (June, 2024) W e all should thank our God for William Mahrt, I nto whose hands He placed a sacred trust, L eaving to him to keep the aural...

. I Will Awaken the Dawn The birds have yet to echo Their songs across the trees, The sun has yet to whistle Its foggy rays in streams, The dark still holds the world, Creation slumbers on; But now the time...

. True Love On a hill far away, a true love waits, In a place of weathered, broken gates. And though the gates are falling down, One place on the hill is hallowed ground. Nothing moves on that faraway...

. Another Crossroads I have a rendezvous with destiny.It’s at the crossroads of Straight Street and Main.With cardboard sign, that man rules his domain.(Cops do not bother with such vagrancy.)Some iced tea...

. To Her Ghost: a Sequence from Orpheus Looks Back ---in memoriam Emily Desire Gaynor Rothman, 1964-2020 . 1. Breaking Open A sonnet tells the lover’s tale becauseIt is the lover’s sonnet. Lovers loveTo...

. The Magic Trick Another dove spawns from the wizard's hat. A youngster, goggle-eyed, forgets to clap, enchanted by the spell. With every flap this spongy creature makes, he wonders at the skill required to...

. Cloth of Destiny From his jail cell, he preached civility— despite the agony centuries had brought. Proud Rosa occupied a seat; though fraught with risk, that act preserved her dignity. We dreamed of equal...

. Anticipating President Trump’s Golden Age Unburdened from that which has recently been. An era of progress about to begin. Mending the messes afflicting our nation. Ending the slow...

Free People In some sense, free people have no needOf poets to give their speech a better voice.But freedom wanes without great art and heedOf powers that will enslave us with rejoiceIf only given a chance....

. Stones for My Parents I didn’t want to come. How sad it sounded To kneel beneath a hazy sun surrounded By strangers’ graves---grim watchmen for the bones Of those who’ve crossed the Bridge. The ghosts...

. Whoever Am I? Preface to His Poetry .by Prudentius (c. 4th century AD)translated by Margaret Coats If I see clear, through fifty yearsI’ve lived. The seventh after them appears to wheelAround as we enjoy...

. The Hectic Life _Sometimes we get discouraged _With life and all its fuss, Its raucous moments speeding by _Like children on a bus. _It’s all the hectic worries, _The troubles and the stress, That pull us...

. Death Is But a Passing A death is but a passing from one world into another, A change of state, a change of place, a starting to discover, A test of fortitude perhaps for those I leave behind, A change of...

. Pearls or Swine? Pray show me how to tell a pearl from swine. I have a thirst for sanity to slake. I seek a clue---a firm not fluid sign To steer me from the sway of all that’s fake. While Einsteins whine...

. Best of the Windy City Nation’s hub and culture center, O’Hare Airport, millions enter. Stunning architecture sites, The awesomeness of Frank Lloyd Wright; Union Stockyards fed the nation; Second City...

. Elusive Illusive Art Where are the pure, illusive works of artthat bubble upward from the deep unknown?Where in this world are worlds Art sets apart? Duct tape? A banana fresh from the cart?Renoir would...

. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xF6v6ES3FMU . This is song was originally a poem published by the Society of Classical Poets in March, 2018. . The Day the Poetry Died Wonder why poetry is in...

. Four Newsy Limericks . A pedophile, if you should see one, Must not be reported. The reason? __It could be your fate __That you’d be charged with “hate.” A crime worse by far than to be...

. A Pleased Jaques ---after a soliloquy in Shakespeare's As You Like It At first there is the infant, grinning widebecause he has escaped his nurse's armsand her chagrin, in short shirt takes his stridearound...

. My Soul Is at Home in the Depths of the Ocean My soul is at home in the depths of the ocean; My soul is at home in the cosmos above, Always adventuring, seeking to grow and Wreathing my body in infinite...

. O Delta Smelt O Delta Smelt of silver scale, O threatened gem of fin and tail, In brackish waters made just so By crimson hands as ill winds blow, Your saviors sing of Toad and Whale. As fires rage and...

. The Lemon Tree We leave the house, the nurtured lawn is gone; The garden still resembles lifeless works Of abstract art; at times banana leaves Seem painted by a brush. I look upon The fruiting lemon tree, a...

. Out in the Open The slanting rain comes on and on! The cold drops blear and blur the sun When they hang in my eyelashes. My heavy stomp in the mud mashes The leaves and twigs and mud together. I plough on...