Poetry

  Why are many young persons so bad at writing formal poetry? Why do they struggle and labor and twist and turn when trying to compose formal verse? OK, I’ll grant you this: every beginning poet has to master his trade, and that takes time and practice. You can’t learn...

. Stages of Arrested Development __The lads who once had wet their beds __Adventured off in brand-new Keds, Exploring every corner of creation. __Age twelve or so, they raced on sleds __Down icy streets and risked their heads For flashes of adrenal coruscation. __Years later, callow newly-weds, __Their careless words...

_ On Your Marx If humans ran a Human Race, __Karl Marx would not be in it. The human depth that he could trace __would leach out in a minute. For he is neither man nor beast __but half-life near demonic, A few kneels from satanic priest __reversing good, moronic....

What is One to do with a Useless Man?: Philoctetes: A Myth Retold is a poetic play by Fr. Bruce Wren.   Act 5 Scene 2 Philoctetes alone (singing the first quartet softly, then soliloquy) If solitude comes knocking on your door, ____Accept her as a strange but lovely guest...

. Strange Election inspired by President Trump's speech on election fraud (below) by Evan Mantyk Strange numbers were appearing in the dead of night From ballot boxes As if foxes Crept there out of sight. Strange cases under tables Pulled out after hours Caught on tape--- Republic rape, Abuse of...

The Painting of the Virgin God, seeing in America a child Embracing Faith with jubilation meet, Took up His paints, and on a flowered sheet By His own hand a portrait deftly styled, For He intended Jesus' Mother mild To be that favored Nation's mercy seat, Whence He would issue...

Poet Susan Jarvis Bryant challenges her fellow poets to adapt a favorite joke into a poem with meter and rhyme. Enjoy her examples and then post your own joke-turned-poem into the comments section below. . Pony Tale My heart used to hanker for horses (that bright equine blaze of delight)...

  Oh, the joy of summer's fall, Tripping on her tassels tall, Laughing with such deep release The ombre maples blush. How she twirls through apple trees-- Such a brief, chromatic breeze That the blitheness of her pall Outdoes the spring-ing thrush.     Luke Hahn is a freshman at...

. That Day of Infamy ∼ December 7th, 1941 Zeros burst through bluest skies __Like stealthy birds of prey, Set to swoop and pulverize __Pearl Harbor’s soul that day; That day of scarlet rising suns __On warfare’s wicked wing; That day the blaze from bombs and guns __Unleashed the Reaper’s...

for my two-year-old grandson, Exander “There’s no tale in the world I can’t believe.” I said.“If you have learned belief, you have learned something.” ---Rudyard Kipling, “Bimi” X We meant to journey to the park;earth did not hold us as it ought,to Neverland we did embark—not the excursion we had...

. Act I Scene I NARRATOR Imagine now the scene: the angry engine, Its beeping brain, its smooth and metal muscles That barely seem to strain beneath the mighty load; And standing all around no creature rustles, For it’s a moonless night that has been chosen To haul away the...

. One night a lean and wizened soul scuffed down the old mill road, while moonlight cast upon the knoll a mounted figure showed. The Horseman sat perfectly still, face shrouded in the mist. His hooded form withstood the chill, a scythe gripped in his fist. The old man stopped...

. To Some Other Poets Let hoary heads divine and then divide,Dot i’s and dance on pins and sneer with pride,And ogle with an obverse obfuscationTo fuel the furious fires of their frustration.  An academic audience allowsThat poets sometimes give us purple cows,Or castles of  the mind, or balmy breezes,Then trumpet...

. Appeal to the Muse O Saint Cecilia, more than just a muse— The very author by this pen and ink— I plead thy help, and never wish to lose Assistance at the quill, or in the rink. For Art is cutthroat; those who try may sink, And much of...

  And when the time, oh Father, comes To cross this life’s tempestuous seas, Grant that my faith should not succumb, Hold in the end still true to thee. Let not the waves of doubt overflow, Let not my skeptic mind then shake, Let not the tempest through me blow,...

  Gather round everyone, come near! My story is for all to hear. A song for you I now shall sing, A song about Murry the King. Murry was the King of the West And ruled till he was laid to rest. Godhild was his beautiful Queen And none more...

  The road of love looks smooth at first and seems as if it has no end. The wise know that the way is cursed, and heartache lies around the bend. The route has hills, and we can't see what lies upon the other side; yet we drive on, love's...

X No tengo más que darte —Inscription on a Spanish sailor's gold ring, in the shape of a hand holding out a heart, found off the western coast of Ireland. Their splintered hulls well-raked with cannon fire, Great sails shot ragged by hot English grape, The rigging singed or severed...

_ Our Bishops, on Nov. 4, 2020 Our bishops hail the president-elect.Do they suppose the election is decided?Or are they anxious that we all move onAnd welcome policies that won’t excludeThe illegal alien from such benefitsAs she may gain through legislative act? Our bishops seem oblivious to the factThat charges that...

2 November 2020 Two weeks and counting here I be In clutches of the CCP I don’t delight as I once did In birthday presents, cards, and quid, But my two darling angel-girls Served me with functionary pearls That bode delightful memories Unlike what came from overseas And self-opened in...

  They mix together here waiting for the trim black and gold gondolas heading into side canals that drain and brim with refuse and will bear souls that wait to ride. The tourist's straying finger stutters taking photos of shadows as they linger--- chiaroscuro, light and dark---along the rows of...

  Famine de l'âme The soul, deprived of one essential thing, Cannot rely on dusty stores of hope; Seeking to mitigate starvation's sting, Finds worthless every erstwhile way to cope: Profound malaise, la grande douleur exquise, Mere denegation cannot obviate; Frantic pursuit of new activities The pang of loss will...

—for Li Hongzhi The unacknowledged legislators know the truth: the Buddha shows one thousand hands to foster heaven’s circulation, so the standing stance is seen throughout the lands and strengthens the divine. We must be free to penetrate the two cosmic extremes, resisting persecution peacefully, one million strong-willed souls instilling...

  The turkey that we blithely ate Had little cause to celebrate The final Thursday in November. It's customary to dismember A hapless bird that's plucked and trussed To satisfy our boundless lust For juicy chunks of roasted meat. The friends and relatives we seat Are thankful for the now...

  Thanksgiving 1984 2020 Wear a mask until you eat and never touch your face. Muzzle up between each bite and when you’re saying grace. No more guests than four to eight at six full feet apart. To cough is reprehensible but do feel free to fart.* Though family dos...

  Pandemic epidemic, fever, chills; As viral spiral sickens, quickens, kills. We’re tasked and masked with no place left to go. A lockdown, knockdown, drag-on TKO. The churches, schools, and pubs once quintessential Are now defined as being nonessential. While travel, holidays, and short vacations Are put on hold in...

  Where are the leaves that branches bore? They’re falling fast on forest floor, A cornucopia outspread, Of orange, yellow, brown, and red: Reminders of a settled score. Ah this, my gloomy guarantor Henceforth of what I must endure: The dull, the dormant, and the dead. ___Where are the leaves?...

  Don’t place your limits on this grief of mine or try to cheer me out of feeling sorrow. I need to wear it for a longer time and won’t be ready to let go tomorrow. The ragged tears that burn and sting my eyes, the knot that’s tied inside...

  The Shisendō is a hideaway villa in the eastern hills of Kyoto, Japan, created by poet and calligrapher Jōzan Ishikawa (1583–1672) as a place where he could read and write classical Chinese poetry in retirement. He chose 36 immortal poets, whose portraits (with their finest verses) appear around the...

  Cricket The game of Cricket, I’ll relate, Goes back to fifteen fifty-eight, Upon a field in Guildford way, In Surrey, many miles away. The game was played by many more, Up to the English Civil War. The village game was in the swing, With many people gambling. By sixteen...

Mozart on His Kegelstatt Trio Quite recently I wrote a little trio While wasting time at skittles with some friends. We needed something for the clarinet, Something not dolorous, but not con brio— A trifle which, their being at loose ends, Would keep my buddies occupied and set Them on...

Heart of Darkness a rondeau redoublé A heart of darkness mocks and flouts the rules. It robs our orb of honesty and light. It tempts then toys with sycophantic fools--- Duped souls that sate the dark heart’s appetite. Its syrup-drizzled spin masks acrid spite That festers at its core then...

  The Mask Sin wears a cherubic mask And beams forth paradise. “Come in, recline, and bask.” The discerning eye looks twice: The gate shuts into a vice.     Old Nick’s Joke* To the world, Satan is a joke— A creature of mythology, Rising from liturgical smoke, Credible as...

. Vulture Culture Above the clouds, a vulture soars, the leader of a culture war. The bird of prey is wide awake, ready to punish grave mistakes. A rooster crows with all his might, and fast, the vulture drops in flight. This cock upset some hens in jest, his crowing...

. The Violence in Philadelphia “Par le regne des maleureux chetis“ —Eustache Deschamps by Urbawel Cidese Say first what caused the violence in Philadelphia; a man named Walter Wallace, Junior, with a knife in hand, advanced upon police, who ordered him to drop the knife. But he would not, and...

All Divinity Is Love or Wonder* New Harbor October 2020 All Divinity is love or wonder. The moon pulls up the sea, while rocks plunge deeply underneath; ragged, cracked asunder, synclined metamorphic panoply. Moonlight fractures on the night-black surface, embers dancing over dying coals. A Fresnel beam each fifteen seconds...

Originally Published by the SCP on November 24, 2019   dedicated to my wife, who was mobbed and defamed for political gains They've come before with pitchforks high, With torches beaming off their knives. This time they come instead with phones To kill my queen and steal her throne. No...

  Truthfulness I walked through our lovely suburban downtown, Which always is ranked as the best. But everywhere windows and doors had gone down, The triumph of peaceful protest. I heard a most credible ex-Navy man, Describe the corruption he knew. Which MSM buried per usual plan, Big Tech rushed...

  On Romantic Longing* Was it when autumn filled the air With musty smells and chimney smoke, This feeling in me first awoke, Which hitherto, had not been there? Or was it on a summer's eve I felt this strange emotion dawn, As children tumbled on the lawn, And played...

_ Pope Urban II Sonnet-Speech, Clermont, 1095 Oh Noblemen, I’m charged by God to warn that Christendom is threatened by the Turk. Torched churches and our pilgrim dead we mourn, whilst in Jerusalem’s bounds brute pagans lurk. At home your greed and thuggish acts have placed your souls in peril,...