Beauty

. Food for Thought A Culinary Tale There once was a man wan and pallid, he Suffered from a mysterious malady: __He ate carrots and greens, __Ripe tomatoes and beans, But eschewed anything that's not salad-y. Now his wife, she was plump, but quite purty, Euphemistically "big-boned" or "sturdy"; __Which...

. The One Standing Tall for the Poet's father The home is where he lives, his heart is full Of love, no wealth can buy his rich esteem; No rock can match those nerves that hold our life Together still like one heroic dream. I think of childhood wrapped in...

. The Death of the Leviathan The monster finally meets its doom: Sound out the death-knell, light the pyre! The depths are ready for its tomb--- Now let the wretch at last expire! Sound out the death-knell, light the pyre Where all the putrid flesh shall burn; Now let the...

. The Shade Tree While out for a walk with my toddler, late, In the city I have come to hate, But where I am compelled to stay By my and his mother’s unmarried state, He startled me with a sudden glee With which he pointed out a “tree!” Indeed,...

. The 22 Best Haiku of 2022 Winner and Runners-up of the Society of Classical Poets 2022 Haiku Competition Judged by Margaret Coats (see her remarks below) See all entrants here. . COMPETITION WINNER . a cicada’s husk grandfather in his best suit hands folded, eyes closed —Ngo Binh Anh Khoa . ....

. Requiem for Eurydice The sunlight dims before my eyes, __My fingertips lose yours, And as my whispered farewell flies, __The last crescendo soars. Then one breath hovers, trembles, dies— __The audience all roars. . . Mary Virginia Vietor is a high school senior from Phoenix, Arizona. She enjoys playing...

. The Grieving of Autumn Be tender toward your own yearnings, When the grieving of autumn returns. When the brown leaves are piled for their burnings And the frost has corrupted the ferns. Farewells from each flying flock calling Stir remembrance of hopes who have fled, While a ballet of...

. A Villanelle for Robert Hoogland Hoogland was imprisoned for calling his daughter female Their mouths are gagged, their hands are bound; Their children taken by the state, These parents have no legal ground. While children run and play around The lip of Hell’s wide, yawning gate, Their mouths are...

. Ode to Poets of the Past I do agree with the sights__that I have seen:the warm and comfortable steps__where love has been and with the sounds of truth__that I have heard—the whisper and the song__between the word. A now familiar species__comes to beara message from an age __beyond this...

. Daedalus Icarus, you have disobeyed, As all men do, and dearly paid. Too recklessly your heart did fly Between high seas and louring sky. The wings I gave you, it is true, But what would you have had me do? No hand does good, no heart loves well Constrained...

. An Old Man's Wallet His wallet holds the scraps of yesterday with faded photos dearest to his heart; A raffle ticket, notice of a play attended when his daughter had a part; A stub from some wild party in the rain at college when he went where laughter led;...

. On Rainy Nights On rainy nights, in pensive thought, I claim the respite I have sought but seldom found on sunny days. Cool drops soothe more than brightest rays in times when life's with trouble fraught. These introspective times have brought sweet peace and comfort when I've fought a...

. Ruby Jubilee We’ve made a grand tour of exuberance, Repeated as our hearts reverberate, Imagining abodes where we might dwell For seasons long enough to celebrate Red-letter days our travel plans foretell. Though rooms or rain or hindrances displease, Experience and memory advance The journey through our realm of...

. I. My body heat is at a modicum: Say, ninety-eight point two or one or so. Foreboding naught particularly glum Except a disposition to succumb To fevers only cooler heads can know. . II. Some other hand has wound the clock within Me and its workings rarely reach my...

. Five Poems for My Mother by James A. Tweedie Poet’s Note: My mother, Marjorie Schlatter Tweedie, passed away on June 18 at the age of 101. She was still mentally alert, moving about with her walker and attending church until she fell ill six weeks before she breathed her...

. There Is No God? “There is no God,” Some men do say. This doubt, some voice, And claim this day. If God is myth Who gave us eyes? Who gave us joy? Who paints blue skies? Have they no dog, Have they no wife, Have they no child So...

. A Stranger in Your Land after Dimash Qudaibergen’s song “Stranger”  A lonely stranger in your land__where you are strange to me,underfoot, your rock and sand__enfold your land, your sea. I haul my ancient heritage__from an inland lakewhere I have walked a fragile bridge__I pray you will not break. I...

. Mightier Than the Sword?   His Eighties searing splash of fiery ink Scorched the skin of those who won’t allow The flare of feisty words. His weren’t in sync With those of kowtow howls. He wouldn’t bow To Ayatollahs raging overseas, Forcing thought upon its buckled knees. A fatwa didn’t...

. As Day Transitions to Night for "JD" and Margaret Coats There is none of the daylight’s verve— __no ripples of the sun in the brook streaming ‘round the curve. __The day will come undone, splitting at the seams, for nothing will stop the pale moon from weaving stars into...

. Lament of the Little White Horse by Paul Fort (1872-1960) Translated by Joshua C. Frank The little horse in the weather so dread, What courage he had inside! A little horse as white as white bread, All behind and him ahead. Of nice weather it never was said In...

. Lullaby of New Mexico Duerme mijo---sleep my weary child As we drive south upon the interstate. My side-eye checks on you, my tired you. My calloused hand caresses your wheat hair. The radio sings dreams, strumming guitars, The soulful voices of the mariachis Who sing about the feathers of...

. Byrd in Flight The surplice-vested, five-part choir, Like sparrows on a five-tiered wire, Gives flight to canticles of Byrd. The flocks of lightweight, living notes Ascend to where celestial thoughts Send back their echo, and are heard On earth because of William Byrd. The varied voices that compose The...

. . Non Existent One day my body disappeared, __nor could I touch or taste, but I could feel the flood of tears __that filled my missing face. My presence was by no-one known. __Not felt, nor seen, nor heard, imprisoned in a realm alone, __dissevered from the herd. Back...

. Tapestry My grandfather Evangelos did trading with the Turks Of pipes and hookahs, hash, and cloths, and skillful carpet-works. A tapestry he gave his wife in Main in nineteen-ten, A secular non-Muslim piece, showed animals and men. In foreground, street-scene, shops and people, harnessed camel clear, A palm, a...

. Poems by Théodore de Banville (1823-1891) translated by Margaret Coats The Velocipede Half brain, and half a pair of wheels, Transcending anthropology, Calf poised on manufactured heels, Half brain, and half a pair of wheels, This novel animal reveals Darwinian zoology: Half brain, and half a pair of wheels,...

. Some Mornings Some mornings it’s just tough to find that place, That slippery perspective where I view The world as not entirely unbraced From all that’s good and beautiful and true. I can’t quite find my footing, all askew Within a landscape sadly out of line With all my...

. Byron Swims the Hellespont On May 9, 1810, Lord Byron swam across the Hellespont from Sestos to Abydos to duplicate the legendary back-and-forth trips made by the mythical Leander on visits to his lover Hero. This was a distance of about one nautical mile, in very cold water with...

. Forsake Me Now Forsake me now, and say your last farewell While my misfortune’s in its full career, By circumstances forced to part from here, And in the furthest land from this to dwell; Forsake me as each branch and bough I fell, Uprooting my unripened yesteryear, To sow...

. Deschutes River Reverie The river, swift and shallow, roils its way Beneath the outstretched arms of old-growth pines, Past bank-side willows diamond-dewed with spray, And hillside ferns and thimbleberry vines. A fallen cedar, once a forest lord, Contributes to the nascent euphony As broken branches add a vocal chord...

. Don't Laugh at a Christian God looked down on Noah And said "Construct an ark Bigger than a boat, More like a zoo or park." Friends said he was crazy Until the rain came down. That is when we learned The first fact checkers drowned. . . Some Men...

. . A Happy 80th Birthday Wish for the Poet's Father I wish for you the golden years Odysseus had Retired from life’s long strife, a sort of Trojan War: The births and deaths were bloody fights, some good, some bad; And there were far-flung journeys bringing more Adventures than...

. . To Winter for John Keats Where are the songs of spring? Now moving west All of us are into winter finally: Threadbare, lackluster, shorn-sheer, and with a limp Stepping down to die flatly, not climb. Ay, where are they? Not only songs for asking But every living composition...

. The Photograph The snowflakes tumble down like frozen tears, Which fall from every eye this winter day; They heard the call and answered without fear, Their country to defend without delay. A couple stands away from all the rest: Her head is bent, her shoulders hunched in grief, His...

. Cordelia's Choice Ye gods, what should I do with such ill news? My father, once the king, is now insane And stripped of dignity. What must I choose To set things right? Yet, pray, why should I fain Raise up this man who banished me from sight And left...

. Elegy for the Child Never Conceived His would-be parents had but days; The procreative ship sat docked, And with the passengers’ delays, That ship is gone, forever locked, But if, instead, he’d been conceived And been allowed to live and die, His soul could one day be received In...

. On the Anniversary of My Father's Death These rainy mornings have a subtle saltTo them that even in the city canBring back the pier, its rugged paint-chipped spanStill wet with early rain, where by default(Too risky for the boat) our soft assaultWas launched: the war of fishes versus man,A...

. Self Defense When he pulled out his knife I thought I had No choice so I pulled out my gun and shot Him twice, then ran the streets for miles, too glad That he lay there dead and that I did not. I got discovery in jail and read...

. Mistress Within those sheets, my mistress lay, her flawless form with perfect feet. One last embrace; I cannot stay! I hear her heart in metered beat. Her voice, a ballad siren song with lyrics begging my delay. But I’ve already been too long! Within those sheets, my mistress lay....

. Sumo's Winning Ways Fierce frontal impact clenches victory In less time than an untrained eye can blink, But connoisseurs of sumo’s treasury Prefer discriminating knack. They wink When force through fine technique shows mastery. Drive into the opponent, pull him close, Then push him, force him, thrust him, crush...

. The Angelus, Jean-François Millet (Musée d’Orsay) How soft across the field the muted peal Has caromed off the setting sun, the air September-ripe, the earth upturned, a pair Preoccupied with what it might reveal, And calls them to a place of mute appeal. He stabs his pitchfork in the...