Beauty

. Last Letter from Florence A recent incident recalls the fears Your letters have expressed: that seven years In this art-laden place might rob me of Whatever you once thought that you could love: The flat I rent lies halfway up a via Around a bend from Piazza Signoria. A...

. . Instructions Set in Bone With my own knife, by my own hand, I carve these words in no-man’s-land Upon the skull of my late foe, Who sheltered here some weeks ago. He’d only paused to rest a time, And plug a hole, broad as a dime, Drilled into...

. Boots Before Us a sequel to "Shear Wickedness" The time had come. Poor Boots was sinking low, and further down no fitting place to know. Our burden was to fix the bottom floor and see our old friend gently out the door. Our goal: to shield him from encroaching pain,...

. Late Autumn Twilight The still earth beckons sweetly.  I must go. The dry reeds on the creek have gathered round. The waters, in suspense, have ceased to flow. Along the bank, no creature makes a sound. The sky is lit up brightly, baby blue. Pink clouds have come from miles...

. For HE Who Is The Light There's been a spell of nightmares since He left. Like Job, I am the likeness of distress. I pine in piles of crumbling stones bereft; deprived of Him I'm worn in wretchedness. When thunderstorms erupt with rage and rain and darkness, like a...

. Somewhere in Time . Tuesday, August 13, In the Year of Our Lord 1895 Dear Wells, despite your sober apprehension, I’m grateful that you’ve granted me the boon Of borrowing your brilliant new invention. I plan to use it Sunday afternoon. I share your fears that changing past events...

. Ode to Winter A honeypool of sun seeps from the skies. The crisp and clingy leaves have lost their grip. __My scarlet spirits dip As gold and russet highs bid cold goodbyes. I feel your icy bite in twilight’s breeze--- __Your stinging chill; Your silver nip; your hoary, moon-licked...

. God’s Finger on Whittaker Chambers My baby miracle so dear Smeared oatmeal on her face; I saw her perfect seashell ear, Curving like a vase, The pinkest little fiddlehead, In spiral like a scroll. How could blind chance, inert and dead, Make such a pretty bowl? My little Ellen...

. Thanksgiving 2022 Today’s the day we gather and embrace The chance to join in praise for gifts we share. We cuddle, chat and chortle---face-to-face. We’re social souls not meant to sit and stare At frigid screens where warmth is out of reach--- Cold pixels can’t replace a tender touch....

. Thanksgiving Memories A honeyed ham impaled with clove; Mashed yam with bits of sweet pecan; A turkey lurking in the stove With tryptophan to make us yawn. Tomato juice with horseradish Lime Jell-o mixed with cottage cheese. And green beans (my least favorite dish) Are old Thanksgiving memories. Fond...

. A Thanksgiving Offering We offer thanks to You who made this Earth The sun and stars, for health and love and mirth. For granting us the sacred gift of life Along with faith to overcome all strife; For dignity and grace beyond all measure; And freedom---something righteous people treasure....

. When Light Begins to Dim When light begins to dim and color fades, the shape of things begins to matter more. An edge defines, the angles hint, and shades of layered grays I never knew before come faintly first to rinse the unsunned sky of what remembrance holds of...

. Heirs to Alexander These snuff-brown mounds piled up ten thousand feet Gaze on toward Hindu Kush peaks twice their height; Green threads of valleys mark the rough retreat Wherein Kalasha keep their recondite Festivities with sacrificial meat. Good wine and brandy old Caucasian folk Knew how to make when...

. Inviting Some Friends to a Birthday Dinner after Ben Jonson's "Inviting a Friend to Supper" Tonight, dear friends, you’re welcome to observe Another birthday dinner---and deserve To know it’s mainly an excuse for us To invite friends, no gifts required, no fuss Expected, though I will confess, I still...

. The Elders I watched them wilt, I watched them fade, I watched them pass In the evening shade, And now I tread The path they trod, Having walked the walk For seventy odd, And though I know The course is set, The darkness has not Claimed me yet. I...

. Valiant Men The sailors brave the angry storm __As waves the ocean brings. It seems to them one hundred years Of fighting death despite their fears, __Like ancient warring kings. The frigid water stings their hands __And chills their sodden skin. But they confront the ghastly howls And fight...

. Potina’s Charm In this excerpt from the screen novella, Potina, Lady of the Stag, Potina speaks to Kaptara, the god of the volcano that she approaches. She is an initiate in the mysteries and is a sacrifice. Remember the children in cover, The delicate nature of skin, Remember the...

. Leaves Behind In size and shape and symmetry The leaves upon a maple tree Are like small selfies of the tree itself. And in their veins the leaves display The trunk and branches in a way That equals any etching on my shelf. Whatever in my life is kind...

. Repaired Debris drifts down my lacrimosa stream shards discarded when my life exploded. Her cheating ripped apart my every seam left a rubble heap she soon unloaded. Finding all my parts, your love resummed them rebuilt a greater whole, I now can cope. Quelling restive fears, your love benumbed...

. The Return of Trump No matter how you try to stop Don Trump __He always will come back. __He’ll lie in wait then jump __In tiger-like attack. You put him in a box that’s wrapped in chains __And throw him in the sea, __And yet despite your pains __You...

. The Last Man on the Moon for Gene Cernan My gaze was set toward the Western sky, To see if I could see him flashing by, I’d never felt so glad to be alive, With my model of the mighty Saturn five. With “Countdown, engines on you’re good to...

. Writing a Poem Our planet moves, and so do we, By forces that we cannot see. Rhyme, meter always seem to track The rhythm of the planet. Lack Of sense or sensibility Inhibits our ability To see. In every fervent verse— Loquacious, moderate, or terse— Rhyme glues meter where...

. Lullaby of New Mexico, Part Two Part One can be read here. Duerme Papi---Dad, it’s time to rest. I smooth your blanket here at Desert Sage And look with worry at your wrinkled face. My calloused hand adjusts your thin-white hair. You fall asleep to one of your CDs---...

. Do Not Return "...forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead." ---Philippians 3:13 Do not return where once you were contented--- It is a trap to seal you in despair; For time moves on, and grieving hearts tormented By pangs of loss...

. Our Superman Porfirio Landa (1925–2022), one of the United States Army’s longest surviving World War II veterans The modest glory of this veteran Began when he was born a Mexican, Baptized before the State declared grim war On Catholic faith Cristeros battled for. Church doors were locked next time...

. Mother Nature Is Bipolar Mother Nature is bipolar. She needs to take a pill. One minute she's a blowhard. The next one she is still. I've seen her hail in April. I've seen her snow in May. I've seen her sun in treetops, Before blowing them away. When she...

. The Cricket These mornings there’s a cricket cross the way Whose chirrup purls and eddies in the air, Autumnal now and cool, to counterpoint The city’s muffled thrum as well anoint The drowsy traipsing of my early prayer. A cricket on the hearth is luck, it’s said, And though...

. Autumn Trail Dreamy glimpses of a world recalled and yet to come: The Stagecoach Trail declines and wends through thickets under trees, Illumined red and gold beneath November’s slanting sun And rustling in the mesh, Alaska’s first exploring breeze. The season waits uneasily with vigilance its due, The first...

. Note: The above photos are of the poet's grandparents, Herbert W. & Evelyn Slater Tweedie in 1914 Wedding Picture; Glacier Point, Yosemite; Top of Pyramid Peak, Desolation Wilderness . 1914 Sierra Honeymoon A picture’s worth a thousand words, they say; A rock at Glacier Point, Yosemite. Folks aren’t allowed...

. Sonnet to a Friend It’s you who’ve been a constant in my life from earliest thirst and to this very day. You’ve helped me sail through lassitude and strife, have always kept the ennui at bay. You’ve shown me stars and galaxies above: spelled out their numbers, called their...

  The Players Legacy: The Saga Begins is a 14-chapter narrative poem that is set to launch on January 21, 2023. This is an excerpt from Chapter 11 in which Vallenbee the Wise speaks to the main character, Abelbee.   The answer disappointed Abelbee,who hoped to hear about his destiny,a predetermined...

. Gone Are the Days The tragedy of old age is not that one is old, but that one is young. ---Oscar Wilde Gone are the days—the halcyon, magical days of yore, When you were young and full of marrow in your bones, And hot and swift the blood ran...

. A Half Century Ago Oh there once was a time in our nation so fair, When the pledge to our flag was in schools everywhere, When young children could safely walk daily to school, And not be attacked by some crazy half-ghoul. There were boys, there were girls, and...

. The Modern Prometheus Grrrr! Linden trees with falling leaves infest These ancient mountains. Crimson-faced they scream Like mobs in Transylvanian villages Which brandish knives and torches. Hate-obsessed, They yell “the Monster! Nature’s veil is torn!” Compassion dead, they make me what I seem: A raging brute who kills and...

. Everyday Angels  inspired by Guadalupe Amejorado (1955-2021)  They don’t appear in swathes of white   __On scintillating wing.  Their heads aren’t crowned with rings of light.  __They never claim to bring  Salvation to an ailing Earth,  Yet I can feel their weight and worth  __As silently they sing.    They don’t descend from pearly plane  __Where shining seraphs fly.  Instead, they...

. Cemetery The grasses, flowing amber on the breezethat speaks to me in verses intimate,are stilled, as if contented to appeasemy meditative spirit, to permitobeisance from afar to monumentsof lifeless stone. Shall not eternitybe brashly coveting my every sensein moments soon to come? My destinyawaits beneath these fronds, their silhouetteslike...

. Storehouse of Memories My memory seems worst of foes when conjuring the times she knows will hurt me worse than fist-thrown blows __and bring hot tears. When memory is best of friends, sweet thoughts of blissful times she sends and, with her powers, soothes and mends, __herself endears. Rose-colored...

. While Reading Burns' 'Stanzas: On the Same Occasion' "Fain would I say" Burns wrote, has me inspired. Perhaps this inspiration’s meant to be a call to listen to a hope desired from Jesus.  Those once blind who see shall sing His way.  This soul inside of me will listen, keeping ever...

. Meditation Say to yourself at break of day: today I shall meet people who are meddling, ungrateful, proud, treacherous, envious, malicious. All this is because they do not know good and evil. But I know what the good is, and what evil is; and I know the offender, for...

. What Life Throws at Us A sentiment can sometimes get the best Of me and bring hard logic to an end. I need someone to share my destiny; Perhaps I need to find a better friend. Just why I feel this way is still a puzzle, Despite what certain...