Beauty

. O Happy Glass Another soul inside a glass deep red— I think on Provenance, effect and cause: Do you begin in wind? In sun, or rain? Inside a seed in bed, or in the grower’s head? In winter when your climbing growth takes pause? In summer when your jewels...

. Kilkenny Castle A moat runs dry revealing secrets buried those conquerors and conquered knights had known. The past, a relic—bits and pieces carried, some seen in present life, some overgrown by history’s décor. And at its core A castle built of wood and later stone. We in the present...

. Making All Things Orderly Stare at grey clapboards in unbroken rows That seem to follow the unceasing sound Of thrumming traffic, with no vibrant red Or swaying leaves to soften sunlight’s blows. Poems of air and chlorophyll’s repose Have gone; the smallest traces can’t be found; Destroyed, as some...

. Heliotrope Phaeton, son of the god Helios, attempted to drive his father’s celestial chariot. His inexperience caused him to burn up part of the earth and the heavens, so he was killed by a thunderbolt from Zeus. The frightened gods all breathed in deep relief (Thunderer, thanks! You’ve saved...

. With How Sad Steps from a Philip Sidney sonnet With how sad steps, O Moon, you climb the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What see you? Humankind’s excessive pace Getting from here to there? We are not wise, Who to alarm clock daily need arise,...

. Nest Egg The things for which I hoped have come and gone: The power to express a cogent thought; Ability to wake at break of dawn; Approval from a nearly perfect wife; And will to execute what I’ve been taught. But this is not to say that all is...

. —like his saddle, hat, and spurs No silver on this cowboy’s working saddle; borne bedrolls, stray calves, and dry canteens, carried beside lame mounts home to the stable, baptized in thunderstorms and mountain streams —horn scarred by years of lariat, grooved deep. The smell of leather, home, a cowboy’s...

. Am I, am I beautiful? Surely my face qualifies: Forehead pearly bright to rise Over sweetest lips cerise. Tell me if I’m beautiful! Cupid’s brows I have, green eyes, Rounded chin, nose small in size, Blonde curls blowing in the breeze; Am I, am I beautiful? Firmness my high...

. https://youtu.be/9VRUjxFxQ2A?list=PLfUp4UiBMcEZC4Hgnr33FpijP5W5mRNo6&t=102 “A star!” the wise man shouted, “Look, a star!” forgetting the hour and his solitude, or else too overjoyed to heed the time— then, starting at the ghostly echo through the tower’s highest chamber, shook with fright and with a jolting hand silenced his lips. Nobody heard him;...

. O Say Can It Be? "How long you been suckin’ up oxygen, friend? For seventy years? Well now that’s gonna end! And moochin’ off Social Security too? The Great People’s Zoo is the next stop for you! You’ll be in their keep, but not for very long, Till they...

. Brimstone I sniff a whiff of brimstone in the tone Of smooth effusions oozing from his tongue. A lick of sulfur clings like stale cologne To slickest syntax eloquently strung Like lustrous pearls to wrap around the throat That swallows every sickening cliché. The polished bleating from a cheating goat Is honed to lead the sweetest sheep astray. I hear his cloven hoof tap to the beat Of hapless hearts all fed the plumpest pledge--- That putrid fruit the...

. Birds in Flight by David Whippman “Free as a bird,” that's what we always say, "It's time to spread my wings and fly away, I have to find myself, fly high and free!" Birds are the metaphors of liberty. They seem free, for they have the gift of flight,...

. Dirge for a Dying Diva Who’s alive now who ever heard the voice That once adorned La Scala and The Met, A native of this land where we forget Artists quicker than books or melted ice? The wonder of her lovely lyric highs Survives in one rich memory as...

. This poem is inspired by a column in The Epoch Times written by John Falce, entitled “The Experience of Freedom” The rugged beauty of our land’s terrain Is varied, airy, beautiful, and wide, Reflecting freedom. This, our fruited plain, Is something in which we should all take pride. Americans...

. She is not a she in the Silver State. Never shall be. In the bones of her heart He will ever be he, unwombed by fate, Crafted by lies, makeup, the surgeon's art... __A petal falls, a stem is cut, a flower __And a bee; weep, no honey sweets...

. From the Bay of Naples To Titus Caesar and the Senate, Hail! Gaius Pliny brings you news most dire From Naples where your frightened people quail; Vesuvius has turned to molten fire! Pompeii is buried. Other towns as well, With countless Romans bloodied, lost or dead. I, across the...

. Amber Song I come from amber, Baltic gold, A gem but not a stone, And not a thousand ages old, A girl from pine sap grown, When fully cured, of warm physique And vibrant to the touch, A little sunshine called in Greek, Electron, for I clutch Fair living...

. June in memory of Johnny Cash (1932--2003) Johnny was no average guy, __The troubled man in black. His life, by evil, went awry, __And loving brought it back. The radio and Mama’s hymns __Filled up his youthful heart. Jack’s accident and Daddy’s whims __Then tore his heart apart. At...

. The roar of battle rends the moonlit skyWith distant thunder as of cannons booming.And bursting, crashing, popping salvos flyAbove the roar, the whirr of rockets zooming. The din deceives, for when it yields to sightA fire-dance fills the sky whose salvo joltsBlithe, awestruck smiles to gasps of sheer delightThat...

. The Future's Illumined by the Deeds of the Past inspired by a quote from Alexis de Tocqueville The future’s illumined by deeds of the past. Without history into darkness we’re cast To walk aimlessly, to suffer and bleed, To never again be the land of the freed. Our liberty...

. Nothing’s had by show of fear, When another way is clear: Courage to pursue the best When one’s met with Nature’s test. Can one sell a good or skill Fighting hard and oft uphill? Does one have the kind of heart To endure a rocky start? Can one shine...

. On Death and Life not by John Milton Ere Death’s foul fetters drag me to my tombAs fodder for the very maw of hell,Should not my weary, failing soul rebelAnd seek release from sin’s eternal doom? For didst not Eden’s God deign to presumeTo breathe eternal life into the shellOf...

. The Carnelian Ring: A Still-Life Footfalls echo in the memoryDown the passage which we did not takeTowards the door we never openedInto the rose-garden. —T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton I think of a walled garden, graced with trees:Magnolia, fig, and cherry, while grapevines(Just pruned enough to be under control)Intertwine with...

. A teardrop's such a little thing, __and yet its burden varies depending on the weight of the __emotions that it carries. One's tears of joy are very light, __yet tears of grief are heavy. And tears of love forever lost __can break a strong heart's levee. Those tiny drops...

. Ill Wind The wind, no friend, assaults us so unkindly And suffers nothing to abate its force, Though boys who fly their kites adore it blindly, As if it were a deity from Norse Mythology.  For those of us who plow The earth, its presence is a daunting nuisance...

. Listen to "Arrow Song" by Gunny Markefka, with lyrics from Longfellow. "Arrow Song" is from his album Arrow Songs, which features songs with lyrics from Shakespeare, Blake, Cowper, Milton, Byron, and Bulwer-Lytton. The album can be previewed and purchased here. . The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth...

. The Hanging Tree The story of these bones is clear--- More than one deer was butchered here, Hung from this limb then skinned and bled By him the hunter, long since dead. Look yonder as the crow does fly And see the grave where he does lie And ponder,...

. . The Blackbird So what can make this joyous songbird sing That cannot but proclaim its blackbirdhood? In fairest weather and in foul it could Convey nought but the utmost joys of spring. So fling right open all the doors, and fling The windows wide: they don’t feel, as...

. Contemplating Aristotle Contemplating a Bust of Homer He stands enwrapped in luminous shadowed light, A woven cord of gold across his chest, Voluminous silk sleeves of purest white Contrast the deep-black velvet of his vest. Arrayed as though he were a wealthy man; A citizen of Rembrandt’s Amsterdam. An...

. “Daddy! There’s the big yellow ‘M’!” “May I take your order ple---?” “One Big Mac, Coke and fries!” Dad  yells, “and---” “Happy Meal for me!” “Coach” Dad would bus our team for shakes (whether we lost or won) cocooned in camaraderie, Great times, those days such fun! The day...

. Our Father loves us, one and all. He lifts us when our spirits fall. He knows the song of heart and mind; He hears the fears of humankind In every earnest, earthly call. He guides us through the grind and gall Of guilt and guile; the devil’s thrall From where...

  Raison Du Jour Reason is like tea.It’s best at four o’clock,Which is an hour before cocktailsAnd two hours before dark. . . Finding at the Door a Disheveled Man Late on a Sunday Afternoon You don’t believe that I am Christ returnedbecause, you say, so often you’ve been burnedby...

  Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, cameTo bless new student housing on The Mound.Despite his title and his royal name,Despite the Lord Mayor following around, The Scottish students studying nearby,Did not step out to even take a look.No “Huzzahs,” “Hip-Hoorays,” or “hue and cry,”Each student feigned more interest in their...

. No Letters "An odd thought strikes me: we shall receive no letters in the grave." ---Dr. Johnson, from Boswell’s Life Of all the things which I enjoy and have To lose them, then, in death, which soon I must, Grieves so, as thinking too becomes pure dust: We shall...

. Francesco, is it you? Be confident. Sorgue vineyard pathways never were too dusty __For you—plump face and figure lusty. Come nearer; focus my astonishment. The monks and nuns sleep early after Compline. __Fawn twilight gilds the summer evening; __Its nectared air fans out old grieving, And here I am,...

. When soldiers die,They give two lives.The one they had, And one denied: The spouse not met,The child unknown,The life unsaved,The welcome home, The hill unclimbed,The beach unseen,The books unread,The field un-gleaned, The chance to seeTheir daughter-bride,To guide their sonOn his first ride, The friends not made,The Christmas trees,The job not done,Life’s victories, The end...

. The mystic steed gave chase to red-eyed day, His forelock flying in the morn’s raw gust. Providence, my constant mount with whom I, On hills and shores, through lofty steeps and crags Had foolhardily stole, forgetting Fate In the undead days of my storm-tossed youth, Now strode o’er new...

. Storage and Retrieval In the dank cellar of the human mind Are stored a lifetime’s worth of rusted tools And strands of uttered words, both cruel and kind, That molder in the moil of golden rules. There, too, are hogsheads of untasted wine Maturing in the clench of oaken...

. “I want answers. I want all the words the poem whispers to be made flesh, to sit opposite me, and to shout out the reason for our existence…” ---Susan Jarvis Bryant on Daniel Kemper’s poem He who is, and always was, spoke light And made our tiny place. That...

. Fostering Faith Will you slip through the system’s wide cracks Like a ball down a driveway’s storm drain? Will you bounce between homes, leaving tracks That they’ll only retrace if you’re slain? See, the case plan is hard to believe When so many are carelessly tossed, Doomed to land...