Poetry

. Miles Fidelis (The Faithful Soldier)  for Joseph Salemi, whose essay introduced me to the soldier of this poem. The city shakes! Vesuvius spouts fire As Vulcan grins through Jupiter’s hot breath. Brute thunder roars. Pompeii’s become a pyre Of sulfur-crusted rubble rife with death. A ghastly pall has crimsoned...

. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BlwV4od1SFY https://www.youtube.com/shorts/xydGuYpfWJo https://www.youtube.com/shorts/4A3yt0FgEAo https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BlRGeOxq1_Y https://www.youtube.com/shorts/_mPzBw66U9M https://www.youtube.com/shorts/MjYuErVDytw   . . Andrew Benson Brown has had poems and reviews published in a few journals. His epic-in-progress, Legends of Liberty, will chronicle the major events of the American Revolution if he lives to complete it. Though he writes history articles for American Essence...

. Are you looking for a good poem to read at your Christmas party or gathering? Is it a more serious or light-hearted event? Christmas poems come in a great variety of shapes and sizes. They can be short or quite long, such poet Talbot Hook's adaptation of Dickens' A...

. Against All Earthly Fire “Our earthly fire … no matter how fierce or widespread it may be is always of limited extent.” —A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce A checkered board in frozen mates, gray stones —seen from the hills that rise above the...

. Cattleman Sinewed arms and knotted hands, head inclined, intense you peer Toward the heavens, clear-sky eyes Viewing the parade of years. Corrals of cattle, sagebrush, sun with grief and gratitude are blessed, Nestled in a weathered heart, like heirlooms in a cedar chest. Few now ask to see them,...

. The Color Plaid At Christmastime, when I was just a lad Of eight or nine, my aunt would bring me gifts: Some books of course, and shirts—but always plaid. I’d little sense of tartan, clan, or rifts There might have been among those Scots back when They’d sooner fight...

. A Travelogue of Wonders My friends, I’m here to speak of wondrous sights. The first, at Alexandria’s port, was built By Sostratus. Of all the harbor lights, This brilliant beam, when lit, outshines the gilt Of gold! Through darkest fog, through twilight’s gloam, Through stormy seas—it guides the mariner...

. The Best Thing… What’s the best thing A man can do For his children--- Just what is true? It's not about The sports they play. It's not about Their meals each day. It's not about The songs they sing. It's surely not About life's bling. It's not about A...

. Soft the Morning Starlight Shines Soft the morning starlight shines __Above in black-hued skies, Whose dark aspect, foreboding mien __Bid me not arise. I long to lay as yet a-bed __In cozy covers all, While stars and wind and moonlight stay __Outside, with leaves of Fall. But here I...

. Here We Go Again… by Joseph S. Salemi Oh dear… it looks like the hillbilly software salesman is having another moral fit. Michael R. Burch of Nashville Tennessee has posted more venomous comments about the SCP and Evan Mantyk at his superannuated poetry-and-soft-porn website. Burch seems to be obsessed...

. The Anarchist’s Wish “all the great men in the world and all the nobility could be hanged, and strangled with the guts of the priests” __---Jean Meslier, French “Priest” (1664–1729) “And the guts of the last priest, let's strangle the neck of the last king” __---Denis Diderot, French “Philosopher”...

. Evening, Washington Metro Entrained, en masse, an ebb as from a beach: the tide drawn by the Capitol (the dome our moon) subsides. We move as one, yet each toward some divisibility called home. The trope (an ocean’s oneness) seemed more apt, or felt more apt, when, not so...

. Fartgates: Of Biden and Kerry That climate crap (no pun intended)They’re pushing is so much projection,A bellywash that’s open-endedFrom an open-ended nether-section. The gasbags blather on and let ’erRip—long, loud, and hard to ignore,And it’s their odor to the letter,Alas, they’ve dealt us evermore. . . Cozy with Chicoms Chicoms:...

. What’s Left to Say? a rhupunt  When women’s plans Are like a man’s, So they act trans, What’s left to say? When folks believe That to conceive Is cause to grieve, What’s left to say? When Mother’s womb Is a place of doom, The trash the tomb, What’s left...

. Limericks for Lame Cowboys A cowboy who came from Seattle, Had a habit of disturbing cattle. __The horse made a jump. __He fell on his rump, And now he can't ride in the saddle. The cowboy was brave and had pluck. The rodeo horse could sure buck. __The cowboy...

. 1.How odd a fallen snow’s fresh reassurance,Begotten in a winter’s biting cold,But taking edges off a world waxed old,And slaloming thought into other currents. 2.Oh how our minds do wander—even hereAnd there they trespass on reality,The scrub of God’s unposted property,And hop its barbed wire back into the clear....

. Moon Before Yule The ashen lantern leavening the skyBegins in languor to proclaim sublimeFestivity to winter’s weather eye. The dome of heaven echoes back the chimeOf peals ethereal arising heardIn silver undulations maritime. Adorning landscapes for the coming Word,An ice storm spangles flannel drifts of snow;Large oaken logs blaze...

. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KTgWaNsnpE . . The Odyssey, 21.388-22.125, translated with an eye on Homer's instinctively cinematic style. by Homer, translated by Mike Solot The cowherd, Philoetius, quickly but quietly slipped out To fasten the gates of the courtyard. He picked up a rope He had seen on the porch—a ship’s cable...

. Fugal Harmonies Softly chanted serpentinous neumes, melodic levitation, heavenbound, monotonal meditative sound; a capella in medieval rooms. Then Bach, delighting in the past, exhumes archaic modes. His complex fugues expound Fibonacci forms; the sacred ground from which all propagates, unfolds and blooms. God creates the world with subtle rhyme:...

. 10 Best Poems for Funerals by Susan Jarvis Bryant The right poem at a funeral service can make that final farewell extra special, but choosing the right one is not an easy task. I have chosen the poems below for their beauty and their variety, which is why they...

. To My Daughter A woman’s life is hard, they say---and true, Though now not as our mothers understood: They battled nature’s facts and custom’s due; Your battle will be for true womanhood. Though all men’s ways now lie in reach for you--- Toil, battle, woes, cares, bruises, sweat, and...

. It Was Only a Winter’s Tale based on David Essex's classic 1982 Christmas song The nights are ever short and growing cold; the front door lies ajar from when you left one evening, though your reasons were untold, and in the time between I’ve been bereft. Your footprints have...

. A Harvard Education Who dares to say that Harvard in The present situation No longer is a purveyor of A top-notch education? Why even its own President Just now was taught to deem Free speech of great importance when Jew hatred is the theme. . . Russel Winick recently started...

. Thanksgiving I’m thankful most for what I can’t describe, Though otherwise I’m clever as can be At secular and sacred repartee. Yet when it comes to all that I’ve imbibed Of graces poured abundantly and how The earliest I savor even now, No subject with a verb can ever...

. Greta Thunberg Meets the Emerald Queen Part II of "The Emerald Queen: A Legend from the Future" One day through the forest leaves wafted her song, Attracting a young girl who wandered along, Who loved to go walking in nature and so She followed the voice and had no...

. Unsocial Addictions Why do some people lie, brag, or act mean?It must pump them up, like a jolt of caffeine.But soon they come down, right to where they have been,And can’t get back up, till they do it again. . . Sex Education One morning in our classroom for...

. Yet Another Year The birthday bells reverberate __Through haunted towns That lead you to an ancient gate __Beside which clowns Laugh aloud and break down in tears; __They stand and wait, Resembling dreams of former years __That've died to fate Or choice or both. The torches shine __Upon the...

. There Is a Way? Is there a way for beauty to be painted with a word? Is there a way to write in ways so music can be heard? Is there a way to make a point that others can’t ignore? Is there a way to say it that...

. Convictions of My Thoughts and Deeds Convictions of my thoughts and deeds are vapors, not substantial things. There are no clouds that hold the breeze, they toss about on errant winds. __Look yonder! See! __Huck Finn it be! From shore to land and land to shore An unsure raft...

. The Risen Though now the hearth is left to smolder __And light will soon be gone; Fire shall rise from hearts far bolder __And shine like morning dawn! Though the trees now lie here withered __With leaves tossed to the breeze; They shall survive the coming blizzard __Their roots...

. Sonnet for Mom (October 21, 1933 - March 28, 2014) I could not see how much she cared for me; Her faults were amplified in my young mind. But now I’m only left with memories; Perspective changes as I look behind. True need in childhood days I did not...

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/iKSrcgV__G0 https://www.youtube.com/shorts/uUi588ZCmbQ   https://www.youtube.com/shorts/0fXLunr7NVU https://www.youtube.com/shorts/ZRIOZkeWfIA https://www.youtube.com/shorts/RWYPcuIOTMY   . . Andrew Benson Brown has had poems and reviews published in a few journals. His epic-in-progress, Legends of Liberty, will chronicle the major events of the American Revolution if he lives to complete it. Though he writes history articles for American Essence magazine,...

. Abraham and the Binding of Isaac after Genesis 22 I cannot sleep although the moon is high. I’m numb. Before me looms the sacred hill. My son snores softly. I look to the sky Submissive to God’s wish but anxious still About the dawn. How can I do this...

. Art and Belief by Joseph S. Salemi When I consider the question of art and belief, I recall the words of the world-famous Indian dancer, Sujata Rubener. She was born a Christian in Bombay, but she was the premier dance interpreter of the various myths of Hinduism and Buddhism,...

. Lee in the Furnace "He who thinks of Lee Must think of Washington. . ." ---Herman Melville So Oleh, Chief, my other grandfather, Mine on the distaff, on the losing side. The furnace burnishes your graven face. You smell destruction, like a gathered tide. As all your features soften,...

. Insouciance When circumstances wear you down Consider this important fact: It’s easier to smile than frown. When autumn leaves have all turned brown, Your borders breached, your cities sacked, And circumstances wear you down, Go find yourself another town To capture what you’ve always lacked: A cause to smile...

. Tampering with Permanence  a Seattle pantoum __Here where I live, a cloud looks like a mountain; mountains float. Like love, illusions laugh out loud. We’re stuck in nature’s drunken boat: looks like a mountain; mountains float and fade to air, though made of rock— we’re stuck in nature’s drunken...

. Pythagoras, Man of Music Pythagoras was of mathematical mind. No matter where he went, he’d often find Relationships to numbers. For example, The clangorous peal of blacksmith hammers’ metal On metal gave him cause to train his ear. That different weights made different tones was clear. He tested weighted...

. Voyage to Scotland Constantius II, son of Constantine and emperor from 337 to 361, hoped to glorify Constantinople by collecting relics of all twelve Apostles. He took Saint Andrew’s remains by force from the saint’s principal shrine in Patras, Greece. This violent robbery greatly distressed the people of Patras....

. Killing Common Sense The savagery of leftist rage __is getting more intense. There’s no rest from the war they wage __upon our common sense. The brave who voice their doubts out loud __are always shouted down. They’re cornered by the blue-haired crowd, __then driven out of town. Young brains...