Poetry

  Castles in Our Heads The old Italians once long held The mind as ordered hall; And in their arm-chair coffers swelled A wealth beyond recall. Each room was filled with hint and clue To trigger thought and mind— Around the halls like sprinkled dew Shone truths like gems refined....

  A Lesson Learned from Trump “We are all equal in the presence of death.” ---Publilius Syrus (100 BC) Today I learned a lesson from the one Whose acid tongue has beaten down the best; A man whose biting slights can’t be outdone Laid every cutting quip and barb to...

Supreme Farewell As every king and peasant must, A justice stands before the Just. We bid farewell to Sister Ruth, Who trembles now before the Truth.     Joe Tessitore is a retired New York City resident and poet.

  “In the Midst of Life We are in Death.” --Book of Common Prayer, The Burial of the Dead In sure and certain hope, we toss The soil in, and bless the dead. The final sentences; that pause Of awkward length, when all our breath, Suspended, makes a short-lived sheath...

. . At the Supper Table of a Progressive They understood riots and death and what's more, "Adore them all really," and down to the core, So dropping my napkin to grant them the same, I upset their table and rose with my frame, A fine crystal pitcher of water...

Memoirs of a Witness Tree, by Randal A. Burd, Jr. Kelsay Books, 2020 by Andrew Benson Brown Reading Aristotle’s Poetics is in some ways a curious experience for the practitioner of poetry. In this foundational work of literary criticism, the great philosopher fails to discuss the very sort of verse...

  Feeding Time Chickens feed on chicken feed. Birds on birdseed, yes-indeed! Cattle feed on cattle feed, Twitters feed on Twitter feed. People feed on many things, Avocados, onion rings, Water drawn from soda springs, Brussel sprouts and chicken wings. Gen-X, Buster, Baby Boomer, Feed on gossip, news, and rumor....

  There’s no age bar on titivating hair, Apart from putting rouge on wrinkled cheek. A Speaker has the right to looking fair, And prune her brunette hair once in a week. Pandemics come and go, but beauty stays. At eighty, beauty makes a second wave When handsome youngsters leer...

  The Church is Locked on Easter Day a rondeau The Church is locked on Easter Day Despite the stone being rolled away. The Christ awakes to greet the poor But they cannot get through the door To go to holy Mass and pray. Lay folk are told, at home...

  Lucrative On the Laundering of Drug Money As commodities go, you are harmless enough Whether tendered in coin or in crinkly stuff. But without you it seems that the world will not turn Men consort with the devil your favour to earn. They will cheat and deceive, yes, and...

Weave a circle round him thrice, __And close your eyes with holy dread, __For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. —Coleridge, “Kubla Khan” Sam Coleridge smoked opium. Ho hum. If that’s what fueled the fire in his pupils I think Sam would have been a...

  When Logos lived within the heart of man, Then beauty bloomed and flowered forth at will--- And every house was built upon a plan; Order’s essence, captured and distilled. Then Lucifer, in all his hate and pride On gazing at the beauty of the saints--- To numb the pain...

  July 4, 2020 A monument falls Rioters have no remorse What happened this fourth?     Summer 2020 Sunny days are here! The beach is ideal and near. It’s Fall already?     Day Dreaming A warm summer day That should be spent at the bay. Not at work...

  London’s Docklands, Pre-Gentrification from a sonnet by Wordsworth Earth has not anything to show more foul Unless it be the same neath fog and rain; But no, for like Rasputin’s reechy mane This horror craves occulting in a cowl: Abandoned buildings, cheek by scabrous jowl, Eyes boarded shut or...

  Losing It He staggered round his living room in stunning disbelief As for the very umpteenth time, he’d gone and lost his teeth. He cried, “They’re in here somewhere, I must search and search” but then He couldn’t find his spectacles so he had to think again. He sat...

  They tried and failed. They’re trying still To steal our freedom; break our will--- The terrorists who torment days With ire and fire and Hades’ blaze. Our bones burn with their evil chill. Their deeds are scribed with Satan’s quill--- Twin Towers Felled! They aimed to kill The Western...

  Misdirection Some dictionaries and encyclopedias still define “fascism” as a far-right system of rule. They need to look again. The Party of self-righteousness, Imbued with far-left chatter. Deeds implemented and condoned, Rungs on the fascist ladder.     Speech Liberty, Guaranteed, Everywhere. Beware of those Who do not care....

For Nantes Cathedral Ravaged by Arson in July 2020, a Tribute  This holy place, where the enthusiasm of builders was succeeded by doubt following catastrophe, then hope expressed in restoration, is it not the symbol of the Church of Christ, and of our own history? – 2015 cathedral brochure Saint...

. Poet's Note: The Venerable Bede tells us that in the 7th century Caedmon, “having lived in a secular habit till he was well advanced in years, had never learned anything of versifying.” Leaving a celebration because he feared having to sing, he spent the night in a stable where...

  No Longer There I wonder if a change has come about. No longer do I feel that she is there As physical a being in her chair To me as I to her. My words ring out And they receive no answer but they flout The silence of the...

In Response to an Article on the Persecution of Falun Gong Practitioners in China I read the other day about the pain That you endure in some nightmarish place, Removed from sight, where sadists made insane By hatred press a jackboot in your face. Dear neighbor, whose sad face I...

  A Cut Above Why shouldn’t Nancy break a lockdown rule To bless us with her chestnut-tress finesse? As Speaker of the House she’d look a ghoul If cameras focused on an un-coiffed mess. They’ve warned us of the ills of manicures, The perils of a perm or tint and...

    There’s lots of riots in the street or so I’ve heard from someone’s tweet; they’re pulling out all of the stops, those young people who fight the cops; I see the photos in the news, the broken windows to peruse; the videos by the headlines show angry mobs...

  Before the plague I never knew my hands. The need to purify the human touch has turned my vision inward, but though much is taken; much remains---in human hands, the same, yet not the same. The bleak demands, that we remain impersonal, in such a time, to save the...

  I am a cardboard cutout. I sit here in the stands. I do not think. I do not blink. I do not clap my hands. You are a cardboard cutout. You sit there next to me. You do not cheer. You have no fear Of unreality. We are the...

  'I Shall A Mighty Hunter Be!' “I shall a mighty hunter be, The King of Kills, by God’s decree! Savannahs always guarantee a vantage camouflaging me. I’ll lie in wait with sharpened claws … until her keys unlock our doors! My human’s finished many chores, including patronizing stores for...

  We Siblings Three Attempt to add the hours we have shared: One hundred thousand, maybe thousands more? Our paths conjoined for several years before We struck out on our own and even dared Imagine we would chase our dreams beyond The borders of our joyful, sheltered lives. But now...

  Backyard Bliss I hear hope’s song fill skies today __In trills beyond my door. Her citrus kiss burns through the grey __As martins dip and soar. Their purple sheen in lemon rays Is testament to summer’s gaze--- __It warms me to my core. And as I’m drawn to step...

Winners Have Been Announced Here. "Poetry ... is a more philosophical and a higher thing than history: for poetry tends to express the universal, history the particular." —Aristotle (384-322 BC), Poetics First Prize: $1,000. Publication on the Society's website and Journal. Submission Fee: $10 (The fee comes with a free...

  "Poetry ... is a more philosophical and a higher thing than history: for poetry tends to express the universal, history the particular." —Aristotle (384-322 BC), Poetics First Prize: $100. Publication in the Society's website and Journal.   Submission Fee: $5 (The fee comes with a free subscription to our...

"Poetry ... is a more philosophical and a higher thing than history: for poetry tends to express the universal, history the particular." —Aristotle (384-322 BC), Poetics First Prize: $100. Publication on the Society's website and Journal. Submission Fee: None Submit: Email translations to [email protected]. Translations should not exceed 108 lines....

  I made her a bed with cushions and throws but she refused and slept in my bones. My skin, too tight for both my sighs and hers so she filled it with rot, making it home. ---Al-Mutanabbi, d. 965 CE She loves me till my body fades away. Kissing-with-fever...

  The Angels’ Share Oh many a peer of England brews Livelier liquor than the Muse, And malt does more than Milton can To justify God’s ways to man. — A.E. Housman When whisky’s aged in oaken casks, some ullage Should be expected, for it’s only fair That higher beings...

rhymes written after reading Simon Barnes’ blog post "Barn Owl in the Snow" Across the marsh, white passing over white, The silent hunter flies then loses height Descending to a favoured perch to stand And view with icy gaze an icy land. Stray snowflakes catch my fancy, frivolous But never...

adapted from Babrius, first century A.D., and Jean de La Fontaine, 1621-1695 __At least twelve thousand years (though likely more) Between the wolves and sheep had raged a war, Until the lupine clan convinced the ewes and rams They’d cease their onslaughts on the helpless lambs. The only stipulation to...

  Editing with the OED for Rita Bornstein __Like a mental abattoir, the OED, With brumous exactitude, looms over me As my blue pen prunes my cachaemic prose, Decorticating glut in orderly rows. Excessive eikonology, they say, May work for those who love facetiae And frilly essays built of guipure...

  Abracadabra The written word is magical And not just something clerical. You scratch some marks into the sand; I see the marks and understand What you are thinking in your head Without a single word being said. Like channeling or ESP The thought goes straight from you to me....

  The potato blight and resultant Great Famine struck Ireland from 1845 to 1851. Potato crops didn’t recover until 1852, by which time at least one million people had emigrated to escape poverty and starvation. A further one million people perished during this period. Meanwhile, Australia experienced a gold rush....

  Doris Evelyn Alice Falconer, born April 9, 1922, died August 24, 2004 You taught me the importance of good humour, the gravity of truth and courtesy; to never take for fact a rampant rumour, but make the time to search for honesty. You showed me many wonders gleaned from...

  The Falcon “In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare sieze the fire?” ---William Blake, The Tyger Falcon, falcon, flying high Over pines that scrape the sky, What ingenious deity Has framed your feathers, formed...