Poetry

. By George! By George, St. George! You really are a slouch. Arise, pick up your lance, eschew the couch. Like Patrick, Andrew, David, fill our breasts with pride and we shall wear upon our chests your colours---background white, a crimson cross, since of all saints, you’re England’s saintly boss....

. Remembering Ophelia His scathing tongue had thrust her to the edge. It nudged her through the willow’s sunless fringe. She teetered on that petal-littered ledge Where Hades howls and bluest moons unhinge The violet thoughts of agitated minds. The breath of death, it wreathed her in a kiss Of...

. A Call for Secession by Adam Sedia The fine arts currently lie atrophied in utter decline and degradation. Poetry is no exception. Ever since the advent of modernism in the decades leading up to the First World War, traditional aesthetic, which features realism in narrative and depiction and adherence to...

. With Boots On Soon after break of day an old man comes Trudging along the thawing roads of Cottage Country (the common land of day and hope) Considering the analects of Spring. At every unploughed drive where frozen slush Prevents all ingress of the motored sort He pauses, then,...

. All Out of Hope I am right here, Lord All out of hope. What of me now, Lord? End of my rope! What shall I do, Lord, What shall I know? Tie now a knot, Lord, Or just let me go? So much of life, Lord, I’m on my...

. Is form in poetry making a comeback? It is according to the BBC. In this BBC podcast series, aspiring poet Andrew McMillan talks to a group of "contemporary British poets who are re-framing traditional techniques to write about the modern world, exploring why form is fashionable again." https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m000wc0r Thank...

. The Chained Oak This tale concerns the fifteenth Earl of Shrewsbury, A member of the English aristocracy. With mighty Halls and Castle where he’d often go, Perched high above the river running down below. One day, while on the hunt across his wooded land, Sat proud upon his palfrey,...

. . Shhh… Shanghai trembles at the edge of hell As horror wafts and weaves its way through streets. The moon melts in the flare of terror’s yell--- Hot howls of raw despair till morning greets Locked up souls locked down for safety’s sake As Satan prowls for hearts he burns to break. He gulps the tears the hopeless start...

. One Afternoon One hot Arabian afternoon a boom reverberated through my flat and woke my napping wife and children; in each room the windows shook, but not so much they broke. Two cars with insurrectionists aboard had tried to breach the oil field’s back gate and when they failed,...

Judges Angela Alaimo O’Donnell James Sale . OVERALL WINNER . Papa’s Commedia by Nicholas Walz That was hellish—the hulking chopper plunging Through the top: the battered fuselage yawed, Dipped, and dove, while like a lunging weed-eater, The stuttering, feckless blade chawed the trees. There’s no war, nor downed helicopter now....

. Easter Monday Luke 24: 13 – 35 With hearts eclipsed by Friday’s three-day night And eyes still blinded to their master’s face, They hear his sermon, senseless that his light Has thrown the flames of hell to dark disgrace. The evening sun begins to set its fire, Their hearts...

. The Prince of Peace     He braved each gouging lash and bruising blow Till scourged and bludgeoned flesh was raw and torn--- Paraded in a crown of thorns to show This phony King of Jews was ripe for scorn... How could this meek, defeated wimp be born Of Him who...

. Easter 2022 In silence, night retires with a yawn— Its starlit labor blessed by God’s, “Well done.” And as the weary world awakes to dawn, The auric radiance of the risen sun Illumes a garden where an empty tomb Bears witness to the One no longer there— The Son...

. Sunrise at the Hollywood Bowl A sleepy son, a father who mourned still. Their first time greeting Easter since she died. When illness came, Anne said her fondest will Was that their boy know God. John set aside His doubts. He searched for two seats near the side. John...

. Hymn to Aurora  1 Aurora, rise and cast your curls Of daybreak through the vapor swirls To drape my face in scarlet beams— Since you left me I’ve had bad dreams. Like waves, my sheets have tossed and turned, I’ve waxed and waned, I’ve dripped and burned, My patience...

. Support the Current Thing Don’t ponder on the horrors of our age. Don’t thumb through all those dusty history tomes. Don’t dally in the dazzle of a sage. Don’t chew on clues and muse like Sherlock Holmes. Don’t scrutinize the motives in Ukraine. Don’t grapple with the rabble on...

. Via Dolorosa for those who have suffered abuse. Where does one go to forget? Where does one go to erase Memories filled with regret? Nightmares of shame and disgrace? What does one do with the pain Abusers and users inflict? The scabs that again and again Peel off where...

. Sepulcher Jerusalem is built of prayer and quarried stone, From yearning, heartache, sacred scrolls and ancient bone--- The shuls, the mosques, the churches, every ancient room. And as a bride prepares with longing for her groom Believers come with downcast eyes, with hopes unknown, To ponder and to pray---or...

. Annunciation It’s not really an angel but a voice, Less heard than sensed, an urgent undertone That murmurs in the place where I’m alone And all my fears with longing there alloys. It whispers that I have to make a choice: To let the world go scrambling on its...

. The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare Classical Poets Student Edition Adapted by Evan Mantyk to retain the meaning of each line within the original poetic form, including blank and sometimes rhyming verse. Purchase a copy of the below adapted version on Amazon here. For a PDF of the...

. Rendering Ruins A barn abandoned, left to drift alone, wind torn and breached upon the reef of time; fields, now dust, where summer wheat was sown, the wagons heaped with grain stood long in line to fill the grange of this once mighty ship, now but a shadow, listing,...

. Tomorrow’s Poets by Enrique González Martínez (1871-1952) translated by Cheryl Corey Tomorrow’s poets will sing beyond all praise In verse that’s out of tune with present day; New stars will bring new destinies that raise A shiver of delight in restless souls. Tomorrow’s poets will tread a path unworn,...

    . https://youtu.be/PguXX2PRzvI . CREDITS Poetry: Emma Lazarus (1849-1887) Voice-Over: Katy Mantyk Photos/Footage: “Unveiling the Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World” by Edward Moran, 1886 (Public Domain) Music: “Slow Walk Into The Sunset” by Alexander Nakarada (www.serpentsoundstudios.com) Licensed under Creative Commons BY Attribution 4.0 License . .  

. The Flowers' Easter Debate Palm Sunday is the Flowers’ Easter, the day when they honored Jesus Christ entering Jerusalem. As they did not need Good Friday’s bloody atonement for sin, the flowers were ready to crown Him. . The Rose Our good Master Comes as Pastor; Our good Master...

. https://youtu.be/LllN9NflfR8 . Lost Song A compass that won’t point the way, And a map of the faraway skies… I once was a child of grace; No matter the country I trod My feet found the path in its place, And they followed the way of the Lord. Lord, I’m...

. A Clamshell in Concrete  I was a child in kindergarten class. My mother held my hand as we trod on The sidewalk leading to the boulevard. This was 1951. The path Was paved in smooth cement, and at the edge The numbers 1 - 9 - 4 - 0...

. Ode to Spring I see you in the rut of butting rams. __I hear you in the chirruping of chicks. I feel you in the frolic of the lambs. __I watch you in the snort and squeal and kicks Of peachy piglets latching on to lunch. __I sense you...

. Parallel Man As I was going to the fair, I met a man with silver hair. The more I looked how could it be? He looked an awful lot like me, ‘Cept furrowed brow and walking cane. Perhaps my thoughts were just insane. Perhaps it was a twist of...

. Slivered Moon Slivered moon on slippers slides Across the skies on silver tides, Draping cobwebs over trees And coaxing shadows to their knees. No more this day will swallows sweep, Above the ground where creatures creep. Where frog and toad with bulging eye, Sing to the world their lullaby....

. Love’s Seasons In the heat of the night, when conditions are right, __Gentle lovers will cuddle and spoon. It’s a wonderful plan, much more marvelous than __Any other found under the moon. When the weather grows crisper and winter’s a whisper __On the sensitive nerves in your skin, Just...

. Birdbrains a villanelle   “When you control a man’s thinking you do not have to worry  about his actions.” ---Carter G. Woodson If we just parrot newspeak without blinking And push prize poppycock as logic fails, We’re cuckoo and we’ve given up on thinking. Our minds will end up shriveling and shrinking, Our...

. (See an explanation on what Sibyls are here.) . The Tyburtine Sibyl The Tyburtine sibyl has the iconographic attribute of a hand, indicating her foreknowledge of insults suffered by Jesus. Not from my heart's imaginings do I (A Sabine woman of the waterfall Crashing at Tivoli as a crazed...

. Uncle Sam's Tomb after Samuel Coleridge's "The Knight's Tomb" (see below) Where will the grave of that great figurehead be, That leader of free men and symbol of might, That vision of justice in our country so free, Great defender of all that is wholesome and right? Can he...

. Woman For years I’ve known exactly what it means To own the weight and wonder of my sex--- The crimson flow of knowledge in my teens, The curve and swell---my spell---the heady hex That lures love to the precipice of bliss. I know the grit and guts it took to claw Through...

. The Short-Lived Triumph of the Junior School's Health & Safety Officer The children wait in line to sanitize Their grubby hands before their morning class. The teacher guards the door, and none may pass Without a mask beneath his anguished eyes, Then, once inside, all sullen chatter dies At...

. He Catches When We Fall! Of all life’s mysteries, The deepest of them all--- Not how high we've risen But on what day we fall. Pride’s an untrue friend, And hubris does us in. A loss of faith in God Would lead us now to sin. Pride’s an empty...

. Sleep Now the hour has come to lay me down Upon the waters of the river Lethe, To float into the maelstrom and to drown In swirling waves above me and beneath me. Who can recount those dark, forgotten hours When, having drunk the cup of Morpheus dry, We...

. Share your poetry on currently unfolding Russo-Ukrainian war in the comments section below.  We received a large response on our first post of poetry on Russia's invasion of Ukraine in February, and poets are still actively submitting on this topic, so here is your chance again to share your...

. The Simplest Way to Save the Earth The simplest way for us to save the earth Would be for women to stop giving birth. For when there are no longer any mothers We’ll solve the problem of too many “others.” The truth in this is easy to deduce: As...

. The Hypodermic For a poet, the pen is merely part Of the apparatus of addiction. He emulates the frozen fly in amber Watching eons come, roll by, and pass. As motionless as veined quartz in a stone, He seeks a waxen perpetuity Bound and shackled in his dreamless cell,...