Poetry

All poems translated from Russian. The Rock A gold cloud rested the whole night Upon the breast of a huge rock; And cheerfully at dawn it dashed Into the blue not to come back Wet traces in the crevices Of ancient stone like tears remained; And deep in thought alone...

Joy Comes Softly silent; kindly kept, ___the haunted hours crept. Moonlit minutes—marked and mute, ___the lonely doubt takes root. The tendrils twine; the rootlets reach. ___Somehow the sun must breach. Morning breaks; my bridegroom’s come— ___virtue’s vigil done. The light of love shines stronger still. ___Awake, Amore’s thrill!   What...

Bridge of Memories a symmetrelle in mixed syllabic meter A bridge built of memories spans the gap between future and past. Although life may speed by us too fast, from every experience, knowledge we gain. Each second of happiness, boredom and pain; far too many moments for us to retain...

I remember our marriage the horses, the carriage the millions we spent on your gown we threw out the book the foundations we shook as traditions came tumbling down twas a modern affair each sex treated fair how silly now as I look back for now I can see that...

The Archaeological Gardens at Giardini-Naxos 7 March 2018 The stones are overgrown with clover now, Drowned by daisies, fresh cape sorrel too; Orange or lemon globes gleam from each bough; Mankind’s Old’s usurped by Nature’s New. To think such careful craft should come to this, We muse while roaming at...

  In an old timber town lived a man of renown; With a chainsaw he couldn’t be beat, And as quick as you’d say “What’s for dinner today?” Limbs would fall, cut precise and complete; And when challengers came, they departed in shame, With their heads hanging down in defeat....

The pika climbs the snowless slopes in hope of finding cooler climes. A tailless kin to hares, he shelters under stones to cope with rising temps within his furry skin. The ball of fur appears to roll than hop. From rock to rock, he gathers summer sedge and dries his...

  Tulip Tree in Bloom, January Every working day I pass a tulip tree on yellow grass and strain to see, when it appears, petals out this time of year. Even our southern winter's strong-- it hunkers down and won't move on: A sky that presses close its gray; chilling...

  The Fairies Danced The fairies danced and shone like diamonds on __The lake below. My pole across my knees; __My creel on my lap; the sun and trees __Stood still; the mountain breeze had passed and gone. I sat on granite, smooth and cool, and chose __A fly (a...

The Devil’s Details There’s a devil in the details, Those traits we like to sort; There’s a devil in the details, The minutiae we contort. We once marched for color-blindness; Now we muster into tribes. Retreat is called advancement In this war of diatribes. Like a costume on the outside,...

Lullaby When you sang to your baby boy did other hearts not fill with joy those few who just happened to hear? for even on their darkest day your lullaby would chase away every doubt and pain and fear the angels never sang like this nor heard the pure exquisite...

  The painful birth of motherhood So few have really understood Is but a shadow that foretells The pain our parents knew so well Of children singing out farewell As to their freedom they rush out With a merry, happy shout “See you, mom, papa,” they call Do they look...

''A good poem helps to change the shape and significance of the universe, helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.'' —Dylan Thomas By Gideon Cecil We are living in an unpoetic age; poetry for many people in Guyana and globally is of very little significance...

I used to be politer, but more boring, my friends say. They could take me anywhere. My conversation wasn’t overbearing. My actions seemed as if I didn’t care more than was apt. Now I appear half-crazy, they tell me, and act drunk before I drink. I babble, slur my sentences,...

Update: Winners announced: https://classicalpoets.org/shortest-poem-contest-winners-announced/\ Scroll down and read the comments section to enjoy all of the submissions. Write the shortest possible rhyming poem that still has meaning. Post it in the comments section below under your full name and general area of residence ("Bob Smith, Denver, Colorado"). You may choose any...

 (All poetry by Bruce Dale Wise) Am-air-ica by Eber L. Aucsidew Die Welt proclaimed the biggest drop in CO2 was in America, in the first year of Donald Trump—no spin. Though worldwide emissions grew by 1.4 percent, they fell in UK, Mexico, Japan, and the US. The IEA released its...

  At last, some time to catch my breath – a rest, a respite in the fight – How many times I parried death! Bask now in this fast-fading light. ___Behold the whispering golden sea ___so wide – see it inside of me. The day’s end finds this carcass sore...

From the White Cloud Poetry Society. Translation by Jennifer Zeng, rendition in formal verse by Damian Robin   With all the trees in shrouds of falling snow, We move towards the moment of Time's birth. My thoughts leap forward with great strength and flow Within the massive gap of heaven...

  When naming things, you have to use a noun; A verb shows action or a state of being. An adjective describes—that is, marks down The qualities of objects that you’re seeing. An adverb tells you how, or else how soon A deed is done—say, “painfully” or “fast.” When placed...

Sing me a sonnet of spring's first sweet kiss. Let me gaze at splendid colors around. warm sun touching my cheeks; the cold remiss. those angelic sounds of spring now abound. The morning songbirds sing loud flying high, honks of northbound geese waving in the mist. the buzz of the...

When spring arrives, the wildflow’rs start to grow In woods and fields, and by the country lanes. In reds and yellows, see the vernal show, Inaugurated by the winter rains! But in the state of Texas, we can say That springtime has a quite distinctive hue; The state’s official flower...

I am the shining star above-- The perfect ray of light. I am the wisest thought conceived, I am the earth's delight. I am God's greatest creation, The angels sing my name. I never have been false or bleak, Nor deaf, nor dumb, nor lame. I am the Word made...

On looking into the mirror one afternoon An old buzzard once came and he knocked on my heart, And politely he asked to come in for a while. He had said he was looking for carrion to eat, “Oh no problem”, I answered, and gave him a smile. Then I...

  When cathedral bells toll through the morning and sunlight touches steeples with its glare, and arrows on the town hall clock stop turning, you will find him on the market square, sweeping leaves in shadows of despair. And in that instant you will cease your yearning. Hunchbacked, with a...

Charles the Bold was the last independent Duke of Burgundy. Killed at the Battle of Nancy by the Swiss, his realm was partitioned in subsequent decades by France and by the ascendant House of Habsburg, setting in motion the principle lines of conflict in northwest Europe for subsequent history. Beside...

  by James Green “Come live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dale and field, And all the craggy mountains yield.” —Christopher Marlowe These fervent lines are some of Marlowe’s most famous, and serve as an encapsulation of the...

In the painting, she has turned to look back At where her lover’s  corpse lies in the  ground. Her face is blurred; her dress, funereal black, Stands out from  greenery flourishing all round. Within the earth, nature will break him down Till he is one with all that living green:...

  Goose Sense A burden and a bore I must have been; As handy as another leg, I'd slouch The farm in borrowed overalls, and when My chores were done I'd nap on grandpa's couch. I thought of books and girls and being cool, Of anything but crops and barns...

In dactylic hexameter Turgid the sea as it billows and foams in the face of the tempest. Wind-lifted wave-crests explode into diamonds agleam in the sunlight. Surf-spray erupts atop surge-curled water descending in free fall Sweeping the beach leaving smooth-glistened sand in the wake of its ebbing Lonely I stand...

Ms. Wang Lixuan and her son, Meng Hao, were detained on Oct. 22, 2000. Mother and baby both died at the Tuanhe Forced Labor Dispatch Division in Beijing on Nov. 7, 2000. The coroner’s exam determined that Ms. Wang’s neck and fingers were broken, her skull was fractured, and she...

In my dreams, I always see you smiling, Your bright eyes twinkling like a million stars. In my dreams, there is no sense to crying, Your gentle touch has healed the painful scars. We stroll alone together, hand in hand, As if we cross the cosmos with our steps. The...

A Cello Knows Amidst the smoke and light and laughter Along the smiles and cheers thereafter A sound is bled, wrung free from strings It bounds and treads and wholly sings Inside each song, a secret’s moved Not right nor wrong or frequent proved The message dances from bow to...

April 26 is Poem in Your Pocket Day, part of National Poetry Month. On this day, people are encouraged to carry a poem in their pockets and share it with others. Below are recommended rhyming poems for this day from contemporary classical poets and famous classical poets of the past....

The lamp holds sway along the shadowed streets A penumbra encircles its sweet shine As night rests softly like a feathered cloak Upon a multitude of dancing stars And night and stars and lamp become a song A story writ in music’s measured bars The lamp’s penumbra swings on shadowed...

Fear A ballad I said to Fear, “Away from here!” And, softly, he withdrew. But, lost in thought, I plain forgot To bar the door anew. So Faith and I sat down to try And chat the night away. But while we talked, outside, Fear stalked And waited for his...

From Lost Love & Other Lyrics A casida Sleep, the enemy of inspiration, An unlikely ally that hangs around, With dawn’s rebirth, cause for celebration. Dreams, their rites of passage are at my feet, There refuge lies in the revelation of sound, An archipelago, where lovers meet. A young heroine,...

  Wee hours, when crickets tune their eerie cords and hoot the yawning owls at twinkling stars; the night-maid roves seesaw, like a drunken bard, besmeared with stripes of billion moonlight-scars! A slithering thief along the parapet wall, a snaking beau crossing the forlorn street, a Robin chirping sweet on...

How Can We Know? A villanelle How can we know where we go when we die; Pondering signs, looking up at the sky, Wondering if Someone's hearing my cry? Which religion is right, which one a lie? Too much in common to outright deny; How can we know where we...

Part 1 Between a teardrop and the heart, We sense our feelings weakened, mourn, For sadness as the tones impart A sound perceived and now forlorn. Opposing songs composed, to ache, Before their scripted voices break, Imagined dreams, enthralled to wake, The haven of the thoughts we make. And moods...

“The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.” ~ Louis L’Amour You are not alone on this wind-rush march, Itinerant ink scribing papyrus Upon demands and deadlines flaming torch; Or over ant-hills disturbed omnibus. Sometimes the hour is long as day or night, And eyes rebel to...