Beauty

  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...

  Eternity in Our Hearts after Ecclesiastes 3 I contemplated all these matters from beneath the heaven, seeing things the way God sees them. For, no matter what may come, it has its place, and...

  I. Return to Rome Turn, turn, sing Seeger and the Shakers, turn Till one day all comes right—but is it so? Here down Domitian’s track I run, I burn: Here dreamed of glory, all those years...

  My Daughter Sees a Starling on the Lawn I thought to tell you how the bird was called, What symbol circumscribed the creature’s being; Intending to give your mind a better hold On the unsought...

Who is that smiling cherub whose huge wings, Open, extended, like a swan in flight, Lifts him above the angels to a height From which he conducts, for the King of Kings, Great open-air orchestral...

  In Frenchman bay, near Otter Point, the sea Against an ancient rock comes crashing down. This grey-clad cliff protrudes its stony knee Into the swirling surf, with horny crown. Sometimes the...

The New Year The fields stretch out, bare, icy: __Wide, blank, yet-unetched slates, Tabulae rasae, waiting __The chisel of the Fates, But deep beneath their starkness __A mighty force has...

  I am the raging tempest tossed upon the fretful sea; you are the calm and quiet gale that steadies me. And yet I am the raging sea as well as all its roar; and you are even, still, the...

  The sun sinks deep into the hill Behind the town that perches still. An amber fog prowls through the street Of cobbled stone and stonewashed chill. Dark navy night skies come compete With...

  Moth, Angel of the Night Emerging from a rich cocoon, you shed off your old husk– with legs outstretched and wings unfurled, you head out in the dusk. O harbinger of sunsets-- O twilight...

Surveillance, Twenty Twenty I never thought I'd live to see my TV looking back at me!     One Nation, Divisible How long have I heard about ______their lies? How they weaponize...

  It seems the art world all but missed the dart Hurled ‘cross the continent when Hassel Smith Called Jackson Pollock’s paintings “restaurant art”; Or else it put it out of mind...

Cumæan  Below, beyond the tiles now cave’d down, Up from the rubbled earth arose a sound Shrieking in a pitch strung to sting the ear, Some spirit of a hag command I hear Of the low, ruined place...

Bees Are Spectacular When people talk of “bees” it well could mean Two things: the sum of separate insects or A colony—some workers and a queen— A score of several thousand bees or more. In...

On the occasion of New Year's Day 2020, two poems by Damian Robin, a writer and editor living in the United Kingdom.

  ‘Tis late now in the balmy eve, without the slightest stir, When lighter than a hot balloon cuts through the humid air Such light through dusk that becks the dawn like some dry burning...

  Three Hundred Spartans In twilight’s ash three hundred stars await As blue-black thunder roars with battle drums, Three hundred voices murmuring of fate, As odds and armour stack in fearful...

One Last Candle The angry storm approaches in the night, Its curdling howl is heard for miles around. The trees all flinch in fear of nature's smite, Then cast their sobbing leaves upon the ground. No...

Palimpsest ...written in their hearts... Romans 2.15 We try, but cannot fully scrape away those ancient words engraved upon the soul. We would instead compose upon the scroll of our morality that which...

Come to Bethlehem / Silent Night   Song and Poem by James A. Tweedie Come to Bethlehem, come and see God stripped bare of majesty. Fragile as a flower; Emptied of might and power; Come to...

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sA_UsvwgdQ8 Our nakedness was swaddled by the night, With Eden’s worn-out dust our feet were shod, When heaven opened and a being of light Announced that earth...

The Feast of the Nativity ‘Twas the night before a brilliant star They roam the desert near and far, When they happen upon the city of light The City of David in all her might. Greeted, they are, from...

Carol They come slowly—loiter, you might say, Some with olive oil splashed on their bums, Others with enormous crooked thumbs, All full of holes like sculptures on display. Broads… up to their elbows...