Poetry

. Clueless ---a villanelle How can I tell what is and isn’t true In daffy days that stupefy the wise? I’m sifting through the chaos for a clue. As brain cells dwindle to a fruitless few All down to AI’s messianic rise, How can I tell what is and isn’t...

. . . Steve Cooper is a retired professional career counselor. He lives near Salem, Oregon. He has one traditionally published picture book on Amazon, Don’t Eat Your Seed Corn, and several of his pieces have been published in the annual literary print anthology from Portland Writer’s Mill.

. Periwinkle Don't know that I was on the spectrum, no, But I was weird. I read too much and played Pretend too much. My mind too often strayed To places so interior they’d glow With something strange and Christmas-y, a slow And simple light, its luminance deep-laid With resonances...

. A Winter's Tale There’re many strange and spooky tales, That come from England’s hills and dales. When Winter tightens up its grip, As feet and fingers start to slip. For on a cold December day, I ventured on the upland way, A spell of solace for to find, From...

. Get Along, Little DOGE-ie Should come a day my fortunes be increased, It’s guaranteed such bounty will be fleeced. For government, like vacuum cleaners, sucks, And takes one-sixth of all my hard-earned bucks. Though spent, they say, for good things, not for ill, I doubt that what they say...

. Salmon Skin _Laid temptingly Upon a china dish, _Poached perfectly, A long, pink flank of fish. _Its scents amaze. Fork poised to dig right in, _I stop and gaze, Fixated on its skin: _Smooth gradient From silver-white to black _Of radiant Small mirrors shining back _The candles’ light, Mosaic...

. What Is a Man? “Ask now, and see, whether a man is ever in labor with child?” ---Jeremiah 30: 6 The prophet’s statement clearly is sarcastic; That men cannot birth children is well-known. But now we’re told we may not look askance At anyone who claims he can (with...

. The Weight of a Father . I. The Smell of Sawdust On bawling-brother, busy-mother days, The saint who slew the dragons in her dream Whisked her through the fuss-and-fluster maze To realms where fathers shine and daughters beam. She watched the magic hands that hugged her tight At one...

. Shakespeare The Master strolled upon the beach, __And stooped to find Among the shells washed up in heaps, __Mere husks of Mind— Selecting them to suit his sense __Of what would score To entertain an audience __That roared for more. But did he ever come to know __Whence flowed...

. Florida Beach Vacation 2025 They buried me in pale white sand. _They took away my phone. The mouse was wrested from my hand _And now I’m all alone. Swift salty tears of Oceanus _Comingle with my own. Apollo’s shafts feel intravenous; _Their fire burns full-blown. I struggle free but...

. Term Limits Without term limits, nothing prevents the eruption of bribery, graft, and unbridled corruption. Too few of our founders felt our preservation depended on forced periodic rotation. Our lives are controlled by the ones we’ve elected, who once in the swamp, can’t help getting infected, so each thirsts...

. When the Child Appears by Victor Hugo (1802-1885)translated from French by Bruce Phenix When the child appears, the family’s loud praiseBursts out in claps and shouting. His sweet, bright gaze__Makes everyone’s eyes bright.And the saddest brows, their clouds too dark to clear,Seeing the innocent, joyful child appear,__Unwrinkle at the...

. Boomerang He was a very handsome guy, Cute girls would stick to him like glue, And his interest in them was high, But only for a night or two. Eventually he settled down, A pretty young wife came one day, And he loved having her around Those few months...

. Ode to Chronic Pain I curse your name and spit as you supply these diverse proofs that I am not divine— and yet I should embrace you for the same, so keep me still and resting, Faithful Pain. . . The Millennial Heel A demigod of Clark-Kent strength sits...

. Reading in Bed Crowded years from now, and late one wintry night, a certain turn of phrase or trick of poetry will summon me. Pillowed in the warm lamplight perhaps you’ll look up from your book, and, placidly, with crow’s-foot eyes, begin a smile; then wonder why I choose...

. Stealthy Slayer Stealthy slayer, murderous sneak, A crafty trick, or lifeless freak--- I slip behind your walls unseen Despite the guards whose eyes are keen To spot, to seize the crafty foe, Whose guise matures from death and woe. Squirming, writhing, crawling, flying, Smiting young and old alike Through...

. Durus Frater, Alma Mater Spring forward to where former arch-rivals Fall back on tall stories of the travels They enjoyed after two years of college, Before graduation sealed the knowledge Of how little there was to learn keeping Track of credit hours, how hours spent sleeping Made for better...

. https://youtu.be/vAjMoMKye0c . . Andrew Benson Brown‘s epic-in-progress, Legends of Liberty, chronicles the major events of the American Revolution. He writes history articles for American Essence magazine and resides in Missouri. Watch his Classical Poets Live videos here.

. Alotta Lip About my Hip Alotta lip about my hip On paper, phone, computer-drive. The new one at my femur’s tip Has generated verbal jive Beyond my wits. I can’t contrive The need for queries they should skip. I’ve been forever asked of these: “How is your pain? Drive...

. Samhain Spree Come, gather underneath the horns _That rise out of the east! Come, join the host in revelry _To frolic, sing, and feast! The winter is upon us now, _And summer gone away, And we have gathered at the henge _To romp, carouse, and play. The temple has...

. An Update for Dylan Thomas’s Aunt "Fie on you, aunt! I’ll show you how To elevate your middle brow, And how to scale and see the sights From Modernist Parnassian heights." —Dylan Thomas, “A Letter to my Aunt Discussing the Correct Approach to Modern Poetry” Your nephew Dylan once...

. Time and Place He gave me his coat once in Dublin At dusk in a damp, chilly draft. We spoke of those old Irish writers--- Just where had they mastered their craft? Did Wilde wield his pen in Dun Laoghaire While pausing beside the cold sea, Or did he...

. Soldier of the Rising Sun Date/Location: February 19, 1974---Uninhabited jungle, Lubang Island in the northern Philippines. The matter: Believing that Japan is still fighting World War II almost 30 years after its defeat, Japanese soldier Hiroo Onoda has not surrendered. However, he senses the winds of change in the...

. Double Rondel for Pentecost Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! O fire that warms my soul, You burn within to turn my love heart-whole, And burst beyond as fervor unsuppressed. Celestial flame, my most delightful guest, Inspire me as a temple you control. Dispel my darkness, radiant aureole, Refine my gold...

. On Twenty Years of YouTube Dull dinner party video clips unshared shaped YouTube’s genesis, or so it’s claimed. Yet others say, when Janet Jackson bared a nipple, that a co-creator aimed to see if it was accidentally flashed. His curiosity was not assuaged--- by old technology his hopes were...

. Auntie Barb ---a pantoum She cuts the cheats and charmers to the quick—Her tongue will skin a scoundrel in a wink.She’ll scupper every swindler’s slickest trickBefore the scoffers have a chance to blink. Her tongue will skin a scoundrel in a wink.Acerbic quips will shrink the overblown.Before the scoffers...

. The Legend of Zhong Kui Zhong Kui is pronounced like “Jong Quay” One dark and dour winter day His mother sent her son Zhong Kui Along with his good friend, Du Ping To take exams held by the King. Zhong Kui, a large and ugly lad, had bulging eyes,...

. Roads of Potter County Finally Spring has come north here---Always my favorite time of year.Potter will tease you in some way---Tomorrow might be a snowy day. Instead there came the green of grass,The white of snow its height surpassed.I rode and mowed without a pain,Across the lawn I would...

. In Urbe Hortus ---June afternoon in the South Garden of the Art Institute of Chicago Hard stone and brick, cold glass and steel Shrink behind the canopy Of intertwining leafy boughs Sprawling from each vine-wrapped tree; The roar of engines, rush of traffic, Clamor of the roiling crowd, Beyond...

. My Fairytale You could be my Cinderella _I danced with at the ball. You’re the one I’m looking for _Since you first fled the hall. You could be in sleep awaiting _Like the poisoned Snow White. You may see me as Prince Charming— _An antidote to night. You could...

. In Her Fair Foundry, Nature Forges Art by Claude Gaspar Bachet de Meziriac (1581-1638) translated from French by Josh Mitteldorf In her fair foundry, Nature forges art, Divinity of beauty knows no peer. The orbs of stars and planets we hold dear Have burned their disks upon our eyes...

. Lost Ark ---upon reading of the hunt for the Ark of the Covenant It used to be, a life ago, that fear caused me to lift my hands to hide my sight when Raiders’ climax was on screen—to peer at wonders shouldn’t be considered trite. As wisdom starts with...

. Since You’ve Been at My Side ---a villanelle Embraced by love, since you’ve been at my sideI’ve found the strength to hope for better days,As if uplifted by a rising tide. When feeling lost, with you my faithful guide,I’ve found my way through detours and delaysEmbraced by love, since...

. To a Virginia Bluebell You nod to me across the trail That runs before my garden seat. With clustered bells of blue you greet My visit with a subtle peal. You wave your frolic fans of green So gaily, as if you had met Some kinsman or awaited yet...

. Still Life of a Bouquet Seems wrong to me that flowers die, A live display of borrowed time, To see them bloom from beaming buds To threadbare bones cut off from blood. Those sharp-set stems, sturdy, stoic Wean from will, though still heroic Fragrant flames of fuchsia flutter, Blushing...

. Folk Heroes We’re told to laud our new folk heroes, but they’re made up by woke zeroes. always stirring up commotion led, not by facts, but by emotion. MS13 will dismember, all except for one lone member, who the mainstream news reported was too good to be deported. His...

. Frivolity from Quality Her works of elegance and style create frivolity, When book producers cluelessly reject such quality. But witless word her work is “not the right fit” holds no slight, Their dreadful publications prove ironically they’re right. . . Memories The million lovely things I’ve said--- Most memories...

. The Institute of Peace: Constitution Avenue, N.E. The Institute of Peace looks down on LincolnFrom high atop her perch on Constitution.She has the hollow belly of a beast.She yearns to eat the people piece by piece.She spreads a sharp aluminum of wingsOver a nation that should fear the thing.The...

. A Walk in Solitude I strolled a path in solitude As snow and frosty winds renewed. The night was giving way to light When I beheld a startling sight: There was a figure up ahead Whose twisted shape invited dread. Its form was cloaked in falling snow, Which by...

. Song of the Heron by Ueda Bin (after the French of Emile Verhaeren) translated from Japanese by Yoshikaze Kawakami By the bleak golden waters, Where the water lilies bloom, The heron slowly hovers, And sends its shade of gloom. The shadows on the pond Are spread like robes and...