Beauty

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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,...

. 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...

. . 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. . 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...

. . 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. 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...

. For Then by Manuel Gutiérrez Nájera (Mexico, 1859-1895) Translated by Cheryl Corey O, to die upon the open sea At sunset, facing heaven, where agony Is but a dream; and soul, the essence of me, Is like a...

. While Pondering Alexander Pope’s "Ode to Solitude" Grateful am I in solitude while reading Pope’s inspiring ode, a time for pause---an interlude ____________in my abode. I’m whisked into the distant...

. The Drive to Reconcile __We never wish to eat a bug __Or force an unexpected hug, But intimacy doesn’t come without A cost, and those who disagree, no doubt, Are lost.  But nonetheless we cannot see Why...

. Free Verse Let us free verse from "free verse" while we can;A pile of branches does not make a tree,And fruit squashed on a plate does not make jam.While words strung down a page can never be,As eloquent...

. . Introduction Percy Bysshe Shelley was born August 4, 1792 and died in a boating accident on July 8, 1822. To mark the 200th anniversary of his death, Guntbert “Gunny” Markefka and the Powerpoets...