Beauty

Star Needles A star is just a bauble stuck on what We view as sky.  Lest it let winter in, We join sky fabric back together. When It makes a split, a slice of light slips through The center of each constellation, but The weave behind the moon where stars...

. The Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion ( 蘭亭集序; Lántíngjí Xu), from the 4th century AD, is generally regarded as the greatest work of Chinese calligraphy. Although the Preface itself is not poetry, it introduces a set of poems and the Chinese language itself is especially poetic because...

  The Music of the Earth In walking home from church one winter's eve, I paused to hear the echoes down the street; The dead leaves rattled dryly on the branch And scraped along the sidewalk at my feet. But far beyond, another, sweeter sound Ran deeply, like a river...

It... It plays upon the glowing, sunset boughs, When shadows have enveloped all below, And distant, other-worldly thoughts arouse A passion in the poet’s soul to go Beyond the earth, beyond the dark’ning sky, Where only unembodied spirits fly. It beckons coyly in that certain look The woodland flower wears...

February  February froze the skating pond, Beauty gone, still this we won’t deny, She was thoughtful with her airy wand, Thankful, think, a rink beneath the sky! Sons and daughters make their skate blades ring, Hurry, we can catch them if we try! Bird-less boughs, but hockey pucks can sing,...

Translation by Michael Coy The Lake Thus, ever driven onward to new shores, borne constantly away, Can we never, in the Ocean of the Ages, drop anchor for a day? Oh, this beautiful lake!  The year has hardly flown, yet here am I, beside these so-beloved waves of hers. Here,...

  The fire waits with tiger paws on silent haunches by the hill, then mounts the rock with clinging claws, and contemplates the moment it will pounce—on sagebrush dry as bones, under a ghostly quiet moon, slink through tinder, stalking homes, and spring atop a shingled roof. In blazing orange...

Common Language I hear the music of the artist's brush Bruise with color the canvas' white, Feel the composers' fingers rush Across the keyboard into night To lodge clear notes in the blackest sky, Stars for some poor poet to ponder, For some sculptor to absorb and sigh While letting...

Transhumanism Somewhere about there’s a slithering sound of man’s enmity, causing excitement and casting the seeds of calamity, claiming enlightened revision of old postmodernity. Oh! But the thought is as novel as man in eternity. Lewis and Ransom have shown us to view the transhumanists in the same light as...

The Catholic Work Ethic I'll do as much as I am able __Before the sun has set. I doubt that I will run the table __Because I haven't yet __Achieved my full potential. There will be time to lie in bed When doctors have pronounced me dead, __And what is...

The Afternoon of Man Fourteen or so, one autumn afternoon, my homework done and supper hours away, I scuffed along on sodden paths bestrewn with yellowed leaves in woods where I’d once played. Perhaps it was the setting sun that grayed the air, perhaps a sudden chill just then, but...

  This evening of your festive day I pray _Oh Agnes, little model of the pure, _Oh girl with smiling eyes, and faith so sure: They won for you the martyr's palm this day. For neither threat nor coaxing in the fray _Of that heroic battle was to lure _You...

. Sonnet II: Liu Xitong Liu Xitong (pronounced Leo She-tong) recently spoke on Capitol Hill about the persecution he faced in communist China for his practice of Falun Gong. Read about the event and his story here.  They strip him down, but cannot strip his soul. They splash on salty...

after the style of Petrarch The aching of your leave clings sadly, still And pangs of emptiness I lone endure But slowly I ascend towards love pure; The path of life lies stretched – a long steep hill. Becalmed, my spirit self its fears fulfil, And panic seeks to strengthen...

  These twain ephem’ral lives were fraught with woes When they, a boy and girl in morn of life, Defied their due inheritance as foes And chased a star-crossed love as man and wife. Belovéd by their family, kin and friends, To honest, faithful vow of love they swore; Walked...

On Ralph Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending, a romance for violin and orchestra inspired by George Meredith’s poem of the same title (see both below). Past years of smoke and pain, a tune in ether flows Untouched, while spreading forth from inspiration’s spring: Swift crystal tones unite in winding flight...

A Poet's Prayer My words are lying, cold and still; reproaching me, their silence shrill. With emptiness, my heart they fill. Inspire me, Lord, if You will. Should You decide I'm past my prime I'm still so grateful for the time when, like a bell, my words did chime -...

To Old Friends Around the bonfire, we were brothers who sang Of joys that are gone, and the flame turned to ash And blew on the wind to where endless stars hang In search of past embers that flicker and flash. How strange is the feeling of mortal life’s dance...

  Rosettes When seasons pause in moments cast, By visions of each flower’s past, The rose amongst all florae kissed, Appears within my dreams of bliss, As natures’ love for splendours lesson, Unveils a shape, with scents of heaven. Garden landscapes dressed in green, Hold rustic treasured scenes, serene, In...

Armed with Imagination Imagination armed this youthful knight— a plywood shield and sword of sapling wood created echoes in the neighborhood of backyard battles fought in fading light. Envision how we must have been a sight to see—a panorama understood by only we who fought each chance we could while...

  Poetry Today If elevated thought had ever beenThe least criterion of excellenceIn poetry, why should it then be seenToday as simply of no consequence?If rhyme was good enough for Shakespeare’s timeAnd rhythm beats in Keats and Chaucer, BlakeAnd Dryden why then, why is rhyme a crimeAnd rhythm a mistake...

Dirty Hands on Communism’s evil specter The evil specter’s dirty hands Have soiled the windows to the world. It’s smeared them with the blood and tears Of millions killed throughout the years. The evil specter’s vicious lies Have spoiled the children of the world. It’s pierced their brains, destroying faiths...

  You Poor, Unfortunate Woman Last Monday was a special day for me. You got that big promotion and the raise! I pity you, for now your life will be a rat race through a long, nightmarish maze. You’re doomed to spend that extra salary on nerve pills and work...

Written on Two Tree Island The golden fingers of the setting sun bestow their last caresses for the day. Although this present day may be undone, the sun will rise tomorrow come what may. Now Fauna’s rich diurnal paradigm enjoys a frolic just before bedtime: A rowdy choir of geese...

. . The Demosthenian Literary Society The nobler and loftier days, gone by, The auld lang syne of the decades that fly, The vast contemplation of time and of space, The fast moving spirits of truth and of grace, The panes in the windows were wavy and old, But mainly,...

Letters We Wrote dedicated to Diane Fournier Across the months of summer and the states, We wrote our lengthy letters, wrote our lives – Descriptions of our summer days and dates, Each to our mailbox drawn like bees to hives. We wrote our girlish gossip so that we Might keep...

  Allow for growth; dig wide—but not too deep. Add soil amender to the raw red clay. Remove the rope. Take burlap bag away. Surround the root ball, mulch and go to sleep. And as the roots unfold and slowly creep, you’ll dream of branches long that lean and sway....

The Great War The world abruptly shattered Colossal was the war And of it’s better victims The gentler arts of yore. Such shards of glass, well scattered, Across the global floor As rhyming verse in meter To coalesce no more. Yet now and then a fragment May briefly glint and...

Sancta Dei Genetrix by Joseph Charles MacKenzie Pure Mother of divine Simplicity, Being-in-Himself now slumbers in thy creche, For, thou hast tightly wrapped Infinity In swaddling clothes and thine untainted flesh; Perfection’s Prince, the self-subsistent One, Is rocked within the cradle of thine arms; In Him we see God’s Word,...

The angler knows the stream, exactly where to cast the line. The fish in turn suspects what offers food disguises danger though it's urged to search the spot. The two engage in grueling fights, dead baits don’t care who dies. The eagle soars above the peaks, from there the glen...

Heart Bleeding heart, a kindly soul Drives demand, you give your gold, Not for the cause they imbue, Guilt sequestered deep in you. Heavy, heavy, heavy heart: A joyous life's counterpart You’re undone by whispered words Hearing darkness over heard. Faint of heart you’ll always be Overwhelmed, harsh tyranny, Cautious...

Translated by Jarek Zawadzki Upon the New Year's Day no fragrant flowers came out, Not till the second month did buds begin to sprout. The snow humiliates the spring for being late, And sprays white petals in the garden all about.   Original Chinese 韩愈 《春雪》 新年都未有芳华，二月初惊见草芽。 白雪却嫌春色晚，故穿庭树作飞花。   Jarek...

(All poetry by Bruce Dale Wise) Ancient Melodies by Ercules Edibwa No longer are they heard, the ancient melodies of Greece, so beautiful and lovely to the ear. One now can only imagine their mellow ease played o’er the centuries, so far are they from here. Like waters from th’...

  As I grow old and frail, you will support me still. If I should shout or rail, calmly, you peace instill. If I judge unfairly against innocent cause; you say to warily apply the rule of laws. As I grow old and frail, you love without reserve; good humor,...

  A Visit from St. Nicholas, 1823 by Clement Clarke Moore 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children...

  Of Roland and of Kings I sing of Arthur and Excalibur, The Table Round and fealty professed By knights devoted to a noble quest For what was right and good, and pure. I sing of Percival and Bedivere; Of Tristan, Kay, Gareth and Adragain; Of Galahad, Gaheris, and Gawain;...

  A poem's truth, when presently revealed Inside its lines where they had first congealed Will fill you with a youthful ardent joy— Like first unwrapping ribbons on a toy, Or spring, when fragrant warmths of mulchy earth Stew flowers cocking back their heads in mirth As coldly chirping birds...

  As autumn breezes blow away The warmth of summer’s sun, Then shortened is the light of day When we had danced as one. The prelude to the winter snow Is sung by icy rain, The rosiness of dawn’s soft glow Usurped by cloudy stains. The bitter winds strip off...

Pinhead While sitting on a pinhead __Stuck in an angel's wing Holding still a piece of thread __I tap my head to think, I tap again, to no avail, __It seems I have forgot The answer to the riddle, __“If not, then what?”   A Single Blade of Grass A...

a villanelle Be still now and let them go. Their trials and losses fade away. Briefly, they were yours to sow. Children stumble, cry, and grow. They are young and so they stray. Be still now and let them go. Work the ground and sweat and hoe; Plant them for...