Author The Society

There are a number of reasons for writing poetry, and alas they are not all good; for not all poetry is good, and indeed some ‘poetry’ is not poetry at all. This is not to denigrate anyone’s effort, but...

The Commissars Oppose Falun Gong They were old, had lost their youth, So, like the old, repressed the Truth. They fumbled, rigid in expression, So stiff – they lacked Compassion. Their purpose was...

In Rembrandt's scene of 1653, Aristotle Contemplating a Bust of Homer, there is much that we can see amidst that musty sett(l)ing of gold dust that balances upon the old and new, upon the dark and light,...

The Bored Knight A tired knight rode to his castle After a long day of hassle. He bowed to the land’s king, his lord, “My liege, I’m incredibly bored, I’m more like a stupid monkey Than...

The allegory of The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne isn't flawless; yet it is, in places, good. The A itself does signify adultery, able, and angel, as well as in the hornbook phrase, "in Adam's...

  Spring Haiku I’m optimistic; like a brand new tennis ball, everything’s chartreuse. The brook trout’s belly is like a sunset I saw; its stipples the stars. Papa bear’s...

  She could not see the avalanche cascade from foam-flecked marble rapids, being blind, but torrents of egrets and apple blossoms played whirlpools of nebulous beauty in her mind. She could not...

I. The Tin Shant on the hill in Martinique is stoutly situated, unique in design, and built half a century ago.  Though stucco and cinderblock, we call it the Tin Shant due to a fine-sounding tap on the...

  A miracle, how else to say it then? At first, but ground, absolutely nothing there, A river meandering by, some cattle, gorse, Nettle and herbs whose use proved no sure cure. Then, as if by...

  The Glass Bottle Tree When the wind blows through, the tree shakes. The glass bottles tip their sunlight Over a stiff hearth of twilight; Sealing its glow as night awakes. Two silhouettes do...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJQTF0bkq8s   The Funeral March of a Marionette is by Charles Gounod. The marionette's broken—dead— right off. The funeral procession starts off; it's D-minor....

  Currency of Compassion Throughout the history of humanity conscious coveting with eyes, insanity anxious and eager to grasp with empty hands a void in the beating heart, deviant plans rash,...

When the last candles smoldered on the funeral eve, And no echo of condolence rippled midnight silence, I rose in scented darkness and took my leave. December met me at the church’s door and raised my...

  Fathers and Grandfathers When we see our Brethren bold, Reach the age called Growing old, Men grow thoughtful, mind afire, With the echoes of a Sire. Working, eating, drinking,...

I walked around the garden, and did think. If I had my own how would I create? With enclosed space I’d make myself here sit. Comfortably, and I could have tea and cake. From broad leaved plants a...

True to Nature Men take up arms to battle in the sun, anticipating minor victories won o'er valiant, steadfast foes who, if they could, would laugh and say our blades do little good as far as cutting...

The aspens are turning, my neighbor said. I went to see. Mostly gold, some red, They stood and whirled, their white trunks bare. A bright sheen (spun gold) filled the air. The whole big hill was turning,...

Originally published in The Epoch Times. LinkedIn's Censorship in China LinkedIn connects people the world over, Crafting a cozy café oceans wide Where people can sip with each other, Do business...

Poems from the Hungarian Poetry Reading 9/19/2013   Twenty Years Later By János Vajda (1827–1897) / Translation by Zsuzsanna Ozsváth and Frederick Turner Like snow on Mont Blanc's distant...

I left my gloves at the analyst's He called to say he'd found them Black, he said, lined with cotton Green, I said, lined with satin He saw them right, confound him Not the leather, a fine dark...

“Hello, again!” the sun does say when rising on a morn in May. “Thanks for the break,” replies the moon. “I need to go to bed quite soon.” The sun then bids, “Don’t fade so...

That distant bellow is merely a case Of west wind rushing through the tamarack In a race with itself to cliff and back, Far from the lake's quiet undisturbed face But for the waxwings' endless mayfly...

Imagine that you were lost in a wilderness and had to find your way out. Fortunately, you have with you a number of things, or tools if you will. In the first instance you have a kitbag, which is itself...

Some People Say Some people say that giraffes were petite and they grew their necks out to properly eat, or they were once dinosaurs who lost their wings. But I know God makes serendipitous...

Seasong I heard the wreathéd coral horn That Triton blew, and less forlorn Did suddenly I feel: I heard the sirensong afar I launched a ship and tracked a star How soon my heart did heal! I saw the...

On the painting "Le berges d'Arcadie" by Nicolas Poussin The rugged mountains in the distance stand beyond, above the three, young shepherds and the shepherdess, who gather round a tomb that they have...

At the Moment of Our Death At the moment of our death As we draw our final breath Should we not project a fear Of the prospect of not being here? The moment that closes tight The door of time, turns...

  Held on May 26, 2014, at Da Tang, in New York, participants read Tang Dynasty poetry, translated poetry previously written by attendees, and wrote poetry. Here are some of the...

Blue and Yellow Barn-Swallows She made a note to note when they arrived. It’s obvious whenev’r they fin’lly do. Over the cows they dipped and ducked and dived. “They have two houses; shouldn’t...

  Our ends and deaths sit with us all the time defining executioners and crime; and though we try to keep them from our door, many killings lie within the Law— are even processed as a human...

Coastal Shingle There, totem-stacked in paratactic charm, The words cascade: Hay.Shavings.Piglets.Straw. I had not sought a sign from Salt Marsh Farm, But since this was the only one I saw, I turned...

Zhen-Shan-Ren: “Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance,” the three main principles of Falun Dafa Zhen-Shan-Ren, Zhen-Shan-Ren… Hear the Truth that sounds like “Zhen,” Rhythm that can vanquish...

Ashamed I will no longer be... Ashamed I will no longer be To write an older poetry -- I have the right to reach for rhyme And make the most of measured time -- While looked upon I am with scorn...

The cost of insurance was such Its price I could sadly not touch -- So I gave all of that To a young bureaucrat And now it costs three times as much!   Troy Camplin is an author, poet, and...

Updated January 10, 2020 Ascending the Phoenix Terrace in Jinling by Li Bai (701-762) Here phoenix roamed four hundred years ago, A sign of the enchantment that once thrived; How empty now, where no...

The Battleground The slashing blades strike fierce and deep The newly stricken fall down in heaps. In vain: the foe storms back enraged, The scythe-like swords remain engaged. The rampaging hordes...

  Cynthia Moon Go drag your white skull before blind seas That tumble dazed to your mono-eyed magic Go string the treadmill tides around the poles And make all starry lovers pale and sick Go...

Waiting, Sadly For Keats I'm waiting, sadly, for a guest to come: What hour defeats me and how I don't know. But come he will, like some ghost to his own, And when he knocks I'll answer him and...

The two were different as could be as anyone could surely see One was tall and thick and white, the other black and thin and slight To look at them it would be clear to any stranger standing near That...

The Fallen Vestige The fallen vestige of her foliate time: Browned leaves beneath; coarse needles of old pine Once green and pungent; when her nests in spring With peeping chicks, and swaying boughs,...