Beauty

  A Truly Perfect Love My fingertips caress your hair and I no longer have a care about what happens in this mortal plane. I lay you down upon the bed and then I gently touch your head and you...

Aranjuez (ar-ON-wess) has been one of the estates of the royal family of Spain. It is near Madrid and the Tajo (TAW-hoe) River flows through it. The Fountain of the Thorn includes, as its centerpiece, a...

  Five Rivers to Cross I sat down by the river Styx to wait upon Phlegyas, ferryman of old, among the uninterred who congregate and those who do not have a coin of gold. The boat arrived—I did not...

  By lamplight through the long night hours, he kept his vigil by her side, His love still fresh, though wilting flowers adorned the room on every side; He would not give her up for dead, but tended...

  Poland Brave nation, strong and proud you stand, a Boulder in the stream One nation, people hand in hand, who’ll rob you of your Dream? Though much withstood, still more to stand you’ll see in...

translations by Alan Steinle Translator's Note: This poem (“Tres cosas”) was originally written in Spanish by Baltasar del Alcázar (1525-1606). I have translated the poem into English and have retained...

  To Whom It May Concern Who writes letters anymore, and in verse? I don't care whether you like it or not. I suppose I could have phoned you, or worse— dropped in. I'd be putting you on the...

O, Where Is Love? by James A. Tweedie O, where is love? You’ll find it in the pain _That binds a mother to her newborn child; _In bitter-broken friendships reconciled; _And in the kiss of lovers in...

  I thought and thought of pride and pride began to grow and over-ride my common sense until I thought the thought itself was what I sought— nor could I sense the meaningful sense that I, a...

by Michael Curtis | excerpted from Occasional Poetry Tradition grows from wisdom, from the accumulated experience of millennia; in poetic practice, our classic tradition grows from the craft of Ages. Change...

  a rubaiyat Step gently O' my boy, this 's your first day... light-footed sweet and slow... on sinking clay. A farmer's school, this paddy field O' son, this's where you read and learn a yeoman's...

  a villanelle The mortal eyes in time shall wilt away, as fast as breath retreats its kiss from glass, but delight they will on the endless light of day. We never had enough of dawn’s array, of...

  The Absolute and Relative Argue with repartee: Ultimate One or Ground or Truth, Or relativity? Through the Hubble’s stupendous view, Ancient galaxies flee— The Relative accelerates Into...

  The Park Northern pintails brushing blue, the crescendo of their wings, weaving windsong into words some say that, “Up jumped spring.” The rising sun, through veils of dun, atop a pool of...

  Ilaria Del Carretto was the second wife of Paolo Guinigi of Lucca. Her sepulchre lies in Lucca’s Duomo San Martino and the tall Guinigi tower has a garden in the sky and is crowned with holm oak...

  The Problem with Socialism Upon Reading Charles Murray's Coming Apart Some sit on clouds and moonburn as they dream, Skin blistered pale by light of mirrored beams, And snuggle with the shadows...

  Part 1 I wished I’d had a shotgun as I looked out of me window To level at the woman and the lad. They’re strolling up the dirt track of me driveway, jumpin’ Nora, A Sunday morning. God, it...

A Child’s Winter Inventory Winter ‘87-’88 Twittering birds; Chattering teeth; Snow coats the trees In an icy sheath. Glittering snow, Bone-chilling breeze; The frost seeps in; Things begin...

  While walking through the Grand Bazaar In Istanbul, I came upon A man whose name was Al-Jafar. His friendly face was thin and drawn, A misbaha* was in one hand. And in the other, a...

Sonnet for a Homecoming Best way of all to be welcomed back at last, Returning home from months of life abroad: Spring songs of birds arouse me from my fast, Spill into empty house and littered...

  The autumn sun warming keeps rose bushes forming well into the days of December, but frost without warning one fine winter morning leaves frozen blooms long to remember. Dormant, it’s...

Proverbs for Engraving onto Imperial Monuments War is the price of freedom. Depths bewilder. The blow aimed at the beast hits him who shields it. The sword of Justice best serves him who wields it. The...

  Within the shadow of the fortress wall, I stand agape; such gross, exquisite scale. My bulging eyes attempt to take in all But sadly, unsurprisingly, they fail. Hot inspiration spikes; aroused, I...

An English Ode That famous field where nodding poppies sway In sunlit grass, where souls of all the good Spend sweet Eternity in dance and play And with the gods, take Beauty as their food __Upon the...

  Song of the Rose The rose awakens, ere the sky Has wakened to the sun; And we, my one true love and I, Awaken with a tender sigh, To love until the day has run And all our pains are done. We...

Victus a response to William Ernest Henley’s poem “Invictus,” from which the first two lines of the final stanza are taken. Dry chatter of dry souls dies out, Beleaguered by the eastern wind, When...

  A Letter to Sir Grammar Dear Sir Grammar: With all kindness and courtesy, may I request, A new package of words, freshly made, For, truly, it seems I have used them all up, And my writing has...

  Years ago—I still remember: final Thursday in November, I was in my kitchen cooking food to rival feasts of yore; To and fro sashaying, hopping, slicing, dicing, mincing, chopping, Dish by...

  translation by Anna Leader I do not know what it might bode That I should be so sad, A fairytale from long ago Now will not leave my head. The air is cool and darkening Above the quiet...

Praise for Fall You float in on a late September breeze with still-warm days and mild, cool nights in tow. It’s not your way to bring the first hard freeze before November when your cold winds...

Thank You Sonnet This thanking you in sonnet form might seem Somewhat unusual, but I think it best, Simply to show how simply lines are stressed Without a trace of guilt or silly squeam- ishness; or...

  Forgotten The grass has overgrown the weathered stone Since they first placed his body in the ground, And visitors no longer come around With hope they'll not, in turn, face death alone. Did...

Mama My mama took two drinks a year; A shot glass down the gullet— Yet hated bars and abhorred beer. Would execute a pullet— An ax, a stump—one frightened bird Was done for in a minute, Yet any...

  Et In Arcadia Ego Oh, that's it, Keko. Pass through. Go ahead. Just walk across my books without a glance, with all that arrogant insousiance of yours, encoded in that languid tread. No, never...

  What song shall I sing for a nation divided By politics, race, economics, and power? By what sweet refrain shall our nation be guided Through all that we face in this dark, bitter hour. Around...

The above photographs were taken and submitted by New York City poet Joe Tessitore. We invite readers to pick one of the images (or both) and write a poem. Post your poem in the comments section...

Translator's note: The following consists of three poems by Jehan (or Jean) Froissart (c.1335–c.1410), translated not very literally but as far as possible in the original form, with its elaborate repetition...

Song at Sunset The sun sets ‘neath the mountain top: __A golden orb that blinks And just for seconds lights the sky __Ablaze before it sinks. I see the sunset in your eyes, __Heart sinking in your...

Requiem for the U.N. 73 years—countless billions of dollars— And here we are today... Behold the statesmen smartly dressed Assembled from the East and West United in your global cause To feed the...

  To You, My Wife a villanelle To you, my wife, my love I declare, My joy and gain, a gift to me blessed, A morning flower of beauty and flair! O flesh of mine, this heart you repair, Whenever...