Beauty

. A Requiem for Suzi She fed the birds, she knew them all by name; She cried to see a small dog hurt or lame; She stroked stray cats and even wild ones tamed. __She was wonderful, we loved her. She loved all...

. Delightfully Mine Of handsome landscapes I admire, How few were planned to please my sight. High skies of which I never tire Are gifts of light, not owned by right. The borrowed mountainsides I see Beyond...

. Encapsulations “It’s a shame that the tradition of producing small poetic encapsulations of classic texts seems to have died out.” ---Joseph S. Salemi . I. The Way of Peace an alexandroid Thomas a...

. La Luna The poet compares the moon to Eve, our fallen but redeemed mother, and the sun to Mary, daughter of Eve and Mother of us all; she celebrates Our Lady’s victory over witchcraft, communism,...

. The Window Seat “They don’t read poets till they’re dead.” That’s what my wise-guy father said. “They wait till they have gone away ‘fore caring what they had to say. Still if that’s what you...

. Beatrice Does Not Smile: Canto XXI of Paradise by Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) translated by Stephen Binns And now my eyes were fastened once again __upon my lady’s face, and all the while __Beatrice __my...

. Awaiting Adulation We all spend our lives awaiting adulations’ late arrival. We’re convinced that’s all we need for our emotional survival. So, we count up every “Like” and then we add them to each...

. A Novice Speaks to a Guardian Tell me, Oh honoured one, The secret of the Way, Of how to live, to reach the place Of light! . The Guardian’s Reply Kid, train And work hard; doubt The self; gain all you...

. A Picture of Repose A young boy’s seated on a wall that overlooks Capri, an oil painting by Dane Peter Vilhelm Carl Kyhn, where a rock ridge arises over architextured walls, with arches, domes and towers...

. Friendship When was it first struck up? Nobody knows. It’s carried us through heydays, drabs, and falls. An unsown balm, ex nihilo it grows Like capers from the cracks in old stone walls. Previously...

. Art Freezes Time Great art freezes time when a painting is hung. An image of beauty eternally young. Who painted the pictures that hang on this wall? I talked to the soul that had painted them all: “So...

. Restoration of Nôtre Dame One Paris evening seven years ago, We walked the neighborhood of Nôtre Dame, But no café had seats. We settled on A bench with the cathedral as tableau, Congenial scene our...

. The Little Knight The kitchen door slams open wide; The boy flies through to play outside. His house becomes his castle’s walls; The distant car horns, clarion calls. A stick becomes a mighty sword; The...

. Three Sonnets  by Vittorio Alfieri (1749-1803) translated by Adam Sedia . LXXIV Melancholy, why take your only seat On this, my miserable heart---oh, why? A trembling supplicant, I yet entreat: Oh,...

. Walking Near the Waves When, walking near the waves, with eyes downcast, I look at my reflection from the shore, Which seems to sink towards the ocean’s floor, Weighed down by tears, which into tides have...

. Parque España, Mexico City I walked until I couldn't walk without at least alighting on a city bench, the first that had a shaded seat, about ten yards from workers digging out a trench to place a pipe to...

. How Great Thou Art __An Easter Ballade . It’s Easter. I can hear the choir sing. The gospels have been prayed upon and read And now I cheer the news the watchmen bring With shouts of “He is risen!” I...

. After the Storm All darkness past, the sun now shines Through shredded storm clouds drained of rain; Its bright beams crown, as day declines, The Victor’s head, now free of pain– That holy head, which...

. Hymn I met Him on that Sunday afternoon I trod the Kentish cobbles through the streets Of Rochester past dwellings in the gloom Of fog laced with the waft of teashop treats. I entered the cathedral...

. . The Shroud of Death The shroud of death’s night-shadow fled Before the dawning light of day; Unveiling tombs wherein the dead In grave and solemn stillness lay. And earth-life voices stirred the...

. Of St. Vitus Cathedral, Prague Once I used to live a waking dream Devoid of starlight: lanterns on the hill Betwined the huddled palaces which gleam In reverence to the crown cathedral’s will. I saw her...

. Deconstructing Grűnewald’s Crucifixion It isn’t de rigueur these days to show A bloodied, tortured Jesus on the cross. Post-moderns would prefer we came to know Him as innocuous instead of gross. No...

. The Faithful Who Have Chosen Not to Wait He rose and told us He would come again To supervise a world of righteous men And women who believed in what He’d said, That both the living and the wakened...

. The Wound in Christ's Side Culprits inflicted countless injuries On Jesus’ body during fifteen hours; The spear-thrust (last of loathsome savageries) Ripped out from His dead Heart, for sins of ours, Water...

. True North Light, opalescent, swirls the arctic bright; Siberian, Scandinavian, Alaskan lights. The morning sun, Aurora, hides her face. King David sings a chariot’s fiery flight, a psalmody of light,...

. The End Unraveled string may be rewound, __A hidden thing be sighted; A missing object may be found, __A fallen object righted; A candle snuffed can be relit, __And if a glass has spilled, That doesn’t...

. Regret The rivulets, the patterns in the glass, the dots of rain that race down to the sill, the treacle speed of days that somehow pass, she thinks will kill her, but they never will. It wasn't all her...

. The Mystery of Poetry The mystery of poetry __is found between the lines. The poet sends the signals while __the sentence shows the signs. Alliterative artifices __alert the adept minds. The power of each...

. La Muerte In those days, no king ruled in Ithaca. A pack moved in with communist ideals: An orgy funded by another’s store. Wine flowed like beer, with all the women free. All except one. Plus one too old...

. Shishaldin Radiant angel, bathed in light, Gleaming opalescent white _On the smooth, sheer snow Clothing your smooth symmetry-- Smooth cone, sculpted gracefully _Like no peak I know--- Rising from the icy...

. . Ballerina The balanced ballerina on her toe was poised with perfect posture—back and chest. The crowd, in silent awe, enjoyed the show, as she maintained a flawless arabesque. The dancer twirled to...

. Song of the Wailing Women Her spirit has gone forth. Return her to the earth, Released from work and words; In death she is the Lord’s. Did Adam bury Eve? Leave Abraham to grieve The wife no longer...

. In My Wilderness Once, I thought I saw things clearly. Certainty felt quite sincerely. But, my path was very nearly Overgrown by worldliness. Without charts or maps beside me. With no compass there to guide...

. The Cat Who Barked There is a row of trees that crowd the ground, They’re dark and still. My cat lies in that spot. His tiger stripes were equal all around, But now lie wrapped in shrouds and put to...

. Promise While winter holds her icy grip __There’s promise in south breezes That make their yearly northward trip--- __Springtime, she comes and teases. The snow and ice as water run forth __As she firmly...

. The Glass Delusion of King Charles VI of France ‘His malady grew worse every day until his mind was completely gone. Sometimes he thought he was made of glass and would not let himself be touched. He had...

. The Dandelion Suburbia frowns upon her sunlit face: “Out, out thou upstart weed!” Poor Dandelion —like sisters Cinderella, Queen Anne’s lace— a beauty cast aside; no bed to lie in. Medicinal,...

. To the Reader of Verse Ah, lover, critic, arbiter of verse, divulge your passions, fill a lusting soul with praises. Let the balladeer coerce the skeptic. Let the troubadour cajole Antaéus: wrestle not with...

. Old Orphan They’re over on my dresser, simply framed And looking 1940s fresh and young. There’s something to them holy and unnamed, Some song inside them waiting to be sung. And I their youngest, young...

. The Last Night That We Met in memoriam CQD, Halifax, February, 2001 We gripped hands awkwardly. I’d grasped your shoulder To say goodbye, and, that cold winter night A month before your death, you asked...