Poetry

  Where the Ground Gives Way Once I took your face into my hand, and sunlight showed the tears within your eyes; it seemed we stood on slowly yielding land, where something long concealed began to rise. No word was said—yet both of us could feel a hidden current moving...

  Two-Tier Keir: Being a Short Account of a Trickster He sought to be in politics--- _Self-virtued Dalai Lama. Instead, we found through all his tricks: _A trickster, Two-Tier Starmer. He promised all he'd play it straight, _He'd never be a harmer; But all his promises were bait, _The angler,...

  Canzone of Parting   I There are secluded places in the wild Where the breeze settles, like a weary child, Down on the mossy blanket of the heath, Ceasing to stir the surface of the leith; Nor can one hear the babbling of the rill __Where all the world...

  What Happened to the Ayatollah?   I The Ayatollah’s disappeared: It’s just as all his friends have feared; But where he’s gone to none can tell, My guess is though it’s down to Hell. He’s with his wives and mullah chums: They’re sitting there with burning bums. He’s asking,...

  An Excerpt Get up and amble through the city of the massacre, then lock your eyes, and, with your hands, touch what you’re passing there, the clots of blood upon cooled brains, dried on tree trunks and rocks. Go to the ruins, gaping breaches, fences, hearths and walks. All...

  A Very Early Taste of Poetry by Joseph S. Salemi The earliest and most important steps in attaining literacy are not usually remembered. I liked drawing with a pencil on paper when I was a toddler, and I would fill up each blank page with rows and rows of...

  Murder at the Stocker Mansion A Poetic Noir Whodunit   ---San Francisco. 1948. 1. Prologue The Stocker mansion sits upon a cliff Which overlooks a rocky, wave-tossed shore; Victorian---and derelict as sin. Within the parlor---could there be a whiff Of something sharp which wasn’t there before? A touch of...

  Barabbas They named their chosen one and set him free. They picked a thug who reeked of others’ blood. He bore the stain their wayward hearts could see--- Familiar ground might serve some greater good. They knew the cutthroat path the rebel took, The street where shadows veiled each...

  Out of the Box Round and round the mulberry bush The monkey chased the weasel. The monkey thought ‘twas all in fun, “Pop!” goes the weasel. ---Children’s traditional Around and around and around she goes… But where she stops nobody knows. Our life is a gamble created by chance;...

  To the Captive Sun You set now, levitating low, Just deigning lazily to throw Your gently flaming, scarlet glow On empty miles of windswept snow, Tinging the icy, barren white With fiery red as if alight Yet melting not, to tease the sight Before you fade to darkest night---...

  The Birthday of a Bride A woman, when she enters into labor on the day She brings at last into the world the object of her love— A long awaited, precious baby, sent from God above— Knows well that, to receive this gift, she has a price to pay,...

  The Precious Blood The blood of Jesus bought me from the hands Of foes for whom I scorned divine commands. My guilt is gone: His blood grants purest grace, And entry to His heart’s most holy place. His bloodshed seals our ceaseless covenant In goodness vigilant and militant. His...

  Stabat Mater Dolorosa by Jacopone da Todi (1228-1306) translated by Morrison Handley-Schachler In the hour of crucifixion, Mourning and in deep affliction, Once a tearful mother stood, From grief’s sword-thrust undefended, While her world hung there suspended From the coarse and shameful wood. How distressed was that dejected Mother...

  The Lip Surely before I have felt as though heaven _were pressed to my lips such as this, Yet touching your smile is so sweet I imagine _there never has been such a kiss. Riv’ling the ruby—the cottony soft— _as warm as a slow summer breeze. The ultimate passion—Love...

  Who Do You Think You Are? You don’t know me, nor do you know my friend. You’re ignorant of us---yet you intend To write to her, purporting to be me? No, I don’t want your “help”---I’ll never send A phony letter. You don’t understand (Why am I calling you...

In partnership with the White House's Freedom 250 initiative. Submit Email a poem in celebration of America's 250th Anniversary to [email protected]. You may list a prize category, but you do not have to; we will put you in the best fit. These are ideas for what you might write about...

  Unexploited Providence “Why am I here?” I was afraid to ask, While walking—half asleep—this land of wonders. So, stumbling on, I took myself to task And totted up my many glaring blunders. Creation offered me its very best To satisfy my least advertent leaning, But tendencies of wastrels never...

  What We Learn From Breaking Waves Those who climb the furthest up the shore Are not the waves that break from greatest height, Who must contend with those who broke before And spend their force against their backwash flight. More to be admired are quiet swells Who bide their...

  Pigeonholed The box they shove her in is small and dark. It skews all views and leaves her little space For launching thoughts that rise with daybreak’s lark. Dawn’s rays no longer shine upon her face. They say this box is where her ilk belongs – It helps the...

  A Dear John Letter to Chaucer, in the Style of Chaucer Dear Geoff, I took the pilgrim’s springtime jaunt to Canterbury Cathedral, sacred haunt where Tom à Becket, blessed by God got sainted, whose blood and brains the Holy aisles once tainted. How can I, now that holy thoughts...

  Interdisciplinary Indiscipline A lifetime ago, back in seventh-grade band, “The Bullwhip” had all us kids pledge to expand Our goals for our music. He went on to ask us To double our time spent in personal practice. The girls—mostly woodwinds—were eager to please; Ol’ Bullwhip could always control them...

  Leicester Square Concert —A true story. Note: Leicester is pronounced “Lester” I traveled to an intel brief _Convened in London town. The Pentagon had ordered me _(Through Army Staff renowned). Invited by the British branch _Of their intelligence, I roamed the halls of Whitehall first _—Two hours in advance....

  By the Waters of Babylon All faces are foreign here, all streets unknown, and even the sun seems like an alien star, darker and redder than a homesick eye. One hundred miles, ten thousand miles, how far is far away? Laptop and telephone pretend to bridge all distances, but...

  How Septuagenarian’s Cope Past seventy. Age does prevail. _The day is growing dim. I’ve managed through life’s calms and gales— I still can trapse through woodland trails _And work out at a gym. Past seventy. Age does assail. _Our grandkids prove time zooms! Their one-track minds never derail: Just...

  The Antipope Gives Military Advice Aircraft should always be vehicles of peace, never of war! No one should fear that threats of death and destruction will come from the sky. —Leo XIV in a recent comment to the press. It seems that in the Vatican we have a fine...

  Replication and Cessation Your parents had four children, grand-kids eight. But as for great-grandchildren, they’ll have none. How could this come to be? Was it just Fate? Why would Nature, History, Civilization Choose this hour to forsake this life, love, thought? But who can blame the grand-kids? We’d have...

  Upon Meeting a Crane ---at the Wilmington VA Medical Center I met a crane; the crane met me beside A hill ambitiously too mowed, Girdled by a semi-liquid stream--- The kind that swells and empties with the tide. The crane and I perched, motionless, serene, Bore witness as the...

  https://youtu.be/G9FpJcfCcGw     Back or Bottom? “Your back or bottom?” Dowdy grabbed the switch, a riding whip, from off its rusty hitch that hung upon the wooden schoolhouse wall— a dangling deterrent for them all. “Macree, up front!” the teacher said with joy. Then, inching forward, crept a red-haired...

  Remains No-one saw them tumble empty down the fathoms, somersaulting gently on their way, at random caught and wafted by some subaquatic breeze. Answering the tenderest of gravities, in untold multitudes they lightly fell and fell, each an untwinned bivalve, exoskeletal remains in drifts and shoals, from sunlit upper...

  Re-shifting in Reverse Alas, I fear the world has fallen prey To well-conceived and ill-intended evil; An armageddon; shattered Tao; decay; A shadow play, primeval, medieval. Society re-shifting in reverse Where anarchy is called democracy. An AI rule-of-lawless-universe; The vanguard of a new plutocracy. For hidden deep behind the...

  The Face At night, surreptitiously, it emerges out of the TV screen, or when the light bulb's put to rest, its wave of horror surges from darkened corners, weakening my sight. It foams up in the bathing tub, assails my morning mind that's fairly free of thoughts. It smirks...

  The Teahouse Garden A place where you can leave your cares behind And have a restful, meditative mind; A Zen-like atmosphere is what you’ll find Without distractions. Put away your phones. Beginning with a path of steppingstones, Observe the moss, the ferns, the verdant tones, The koi-filled pond, the...

  Snow Foe I’m rather certain snow falls for a reason, Like adding charm to wintertime’s cold season. But after many years of getting pelted, My favorite type of snow is when it’s melted.     A Few Seconds More If there could be one thing about myself that I’d...

  Fireship ---August 7, 1588. The English Channel. Since William’s conquest England has not faced Such danger of defeat---so dire a maze It calls for setting our own ships ablaze. I’ve stowed away, a naval pyre embraced, To steer this burning ship to ram El Rey. I can’t conceive a...

  Morning Glory The mornings are a challenge for the old man. Get up. Get dressed. Get the dogs out. Get them fed. His several pains are worse. It’s cold and dark outside. The world, it seems, is set against him. But he knows that’s not the case. He hums...

  Tinian Tucked into the corner of the sea, Birthed in fire, volcanic history, A stepping stone across the ocean wide, Battered by the ever-flowing tides, Bobbing on the slow pacific swell, An island which unleashed the hounds of hell. This runway covered up by jungle vines, Was where we...

  Prayer (5:00 a.m.) Some stubborn pain (the world… the past…) Is peeking through the cracks, and all I want is somehow to at last Come home to something steady, fast, (I won’t say innocence, but still…) To something pure and whole that will In me a simpler soul recall....

  Damon and Pythias The two spoke number lore with every breath, Disciples of Pythagoras and friends, But one was seized and chained, condemned to death As loud opponent of tyrannic trends. He felt a need that normally attends Life’s end, to go and settle his affairs. The tyrant said,...

  The Throne at Knossos Kings, nations, empires, tongues have passed, Through fourscore centuries, but you last, _Carved from immortal stone Long before Caesar was to reign Or king of England, France, or Spain: _Europe’s most ancient throne. Within this crimson-frescoed hall, Enthroned on your majestic, tall, _White alabaster seat,...

    The Bridge by Victor Hugo (1802-1885) translated from French by Joy Nevin Axelson Shadows before me. An abyss without light, without shores or summits, with no end in sight. So mournful, immense, so vast, without movement. I was lost in its infinite depths so silent. Deep down, through...