Culture

. Jane Doe These trembling hands are not the first to jostle away unholy grabs from praying hands; you crossed the lines Christ drew in coastal sands before the crowd gathering their stones. __You blamed me for it all. Possessed with fierce rapacity, you blurred the lines—ransacking my temple, breaking...

. The Crimson Creed We know the primal aggregate, Self-molded at the start of time, Before the Big Bang uppercut Made all the cosmic flotsam rhyme. We know that two plus two is five. The world’s alive because of chance… That flash when slime and time arrive And Science blesses...

. The Marble Angel The marble angel stood upon a tomb Erect and at attention, wings outspread, His blank eyes watching through the growing gloom, Like some mute sentry sent to guard the dead. I saw him standing there, sublime and still, While walking through the churchyard in the eve;...

. . Shoveling Out the Blizzard Snow came so thick, the roof makes pops and creaks; downspouts froze solid as cement with ice; while working on the walk, you’ve fallen twice: The cold shines through your clothes and sears your cheeks. . The roof melt overspilled in crystal fans; Ice...

. Anthony Comstock: An Extended Dactylic Higgledy, piggledy, Anthony Comstock, the Toughest enforcer of morals to date, Couldn’t stand looking at nude female pulchritude Due to his stern puritanical hate. Tony sent dozens of persons to prison for Publishing sketches of breasts and behinds— Claimed that all nudity ought not...

. The Taxman Cometh Get out your Number Two and calculate Your taxable income; what, if anything, You owe. The taxman doesn’t like to wait, And government has to fill its money chest. That hated agency, the IRS, Is ammo’d up and willing to arrest. Who doesn’t dread the strongly-worded...

. Peacemakers Islam is sometimes referred to as the Religion of Peace Go on, won’t you bless the peacemakers— The ones who make peace with the beasts. They think that would take them like Meccans Around the black Kaaba in bliss. So mindful and calm, transcendental, And almost forgetting to...

. Captain Francisco Menendez Born a Mandinga, on Africa’s west coast, Where farm and hunting toil supported most, But tribal spats and small jihads maintained For centuries a brutal trade in slaves, This youth was captured by some neighbor knaves And sold and shipped to Carolina, chained. Field labor there...

. . Peaches, Plums, and the Sistine Chapel . . I. Pondering Prufrock   a pantoum  . The women come and then they go As foggy muzzles nuzzle air. There’s talk of Mike and Angelo. Time strides the beach with hoary hair. . As foggy muzzles nuzzle air On tea and...

. Authenticity Some skies stark and vivid, But others milky white. Sometimes lovely azure skies, Or pale with fading light. Some skies gray and gloomy, Yet others black as night. Skies! Their authenticity--- No falsehood to conceal. O, that stormy politics A pure intent reveal, That truth and honor win...

. . Maura H. Harrison is a writer, photographer, and fiber artist from Fredericksburg, VA. She is currently an MFA candidate in Creative Writing at the University of St. Thomas, Houston.  Her works have appeared in Dappled Things, Ekstasis Magazine, Amethyst Review, Solum Journal, Heart of Flesh Literary Magazine, Trampoline, Clayjar Review,...

. You Can't Control Everything You can't control the wind that blows, The destiny of others' souls, Time and tides and what they bring--- You can't control everything. Blame volcanoes for ash and dust, It makes no diff’rence, you can trust. Bees and wasps and hornets’ sting--- You can't control...

. Ipse Dixit I say Cogito ergo sum To the animal here in the room. So how do I know I exist? Well, here’s a provisional list: I doubt, and I fear, and I bleed; I attend to a friend who’s in need. The philosophers think they’re so smart, But...

. Last Visit to the Beach a sestina The beach, untouched by Time throughout the years As millions of waves washed from the sea, As Time transformed me, now no more a boy, Where I would walk each season on that sand, Each decade by my side a different dog,...

. Quilting the News Lots of people still don’t know __that what’s portrayed as “news” is often pieced together to __promote the crafters’ views. Like sculptors with a block of clay, __the crafters often mold the storyline in subtle ways __to tilt the tale that’s told. The crafters of the...

. . February 14, 2024 A heart of burning love, an ashen cross Converge today: the marriage of two kinds Of love. The feast day is St. Valentine’s--- Which, this year, intersects Ash Wednesday: Eros United with Agape.  This brave martyr’s Strong love enabled him to bear great tortures. He...

. Ash Wednesday Valentines by Charles d’Orléans (1394-1465), translated by Margaret Coats . I. Who’s there? Who comes so early, who? “It’s I myself.” Saint Valentine, you! Why turn up now at Carnival To keep Lent’s boozy vesperal? What booty at this rendezvous? At present, let’s not have your sweets,...

. I Am the Stone I am the stone The humble stone the barefoot shepherd boy Selected from the muddy river bed; The stone which fit inside the sling he made As soon as he was given leave by Saul To fight for Israel in her time of need. I...

. The Southern Cross The caravels escaped at last The roiling tides of Bojador And entered tropic seas far past What any chart described before--- __An unknown world to cross. Strange southern seas! Unending miles Of blue, both sea and sky, stretched bare. The bights and capes, the shoals and...

. . Nocturnal Litany I “From all malevolence the night employs….” ---James Agee, “Epithalamium” . From all malevolence the night employs To haunt our ragged hearts and weary brains With bitterness that pulses through the veins Of memory with its unrelenting noise; From nightmare images that hover over us Portending...

. Love Sonnet The glint of summer’s evening leaves a glow upon her cheek, so soft and plain and fair— the glister of the twilight hours show the rosebuds, luminescent in her hair. And all the earth now sings a lovely song— and all her creatures praises do employ as...

. The Austrian Non Placet Comes in Time (Recess at the papal conclave in Rome, August 1903. One cardinal speaks to a small group of his allies) Two ballots done already. I perceive Things are not going our way. We will grieve If this man wears the triple crown. Please...

. The Screaming Screed and Stench Sister Cindy, Brother Jed, Before the cellphone, rumor spread, "They're speaking on the Common, dude, Their testimony's waxing crude!" Pioneer, the sawdust trail, Jed and Cindy, rare to fail: Taunt, enrage the masses bored. Were they working for the Lord? Snake Oil from the...

. Babel There was a time when all the world one tongue Among its peoples shared, and language preened Itself with fluffed-up thoughts that oversprung The bounds of things as yet quite unforeseen. Man set about a city to machine With at its heart a tower to touch the clouds...

. Paradise Island Some years ago, from cliff top and from shore,a flock of birds that never touched the skylooked out upon an ocean ship that borea biped crew from whom they could not fly.These creatures, armed with cudgel, club and gunmade landfall on this isle twixt West and East.The...

. My Beatrice III Affording still these glimpses like the first, those moments you were yet without a name; between us was the distance untraversed: the bringing into being what you became. Four times I glance into the rearview mirror, each time a Kurosawa axial cut: you’re here, then there,...

. A Musical Offering When Bach arrived at Sanssouci, King Frederick said, “Sir, you must be tired. My fortepianos may help to revive you. Please, come play.” While Bach was busy at the keys, the king presented him a tease: “My dear Herr Bach, I’m wondering if you could do...

. Off Guard Coyotes drag their quarry past the line  Drawn in the sand to stop the ghastly game   Of selling wide-eyed tots to vile swine---   No money-grubbing cur is barred by shame. Wild mules haul havoc through the gaping gates As mothers mourn the loss of drug-gorged sons. ...

. Left Outside The shopping cart, precisely ordered now while searching for those perfect little lines of lights for decorations---anyhow, I'm sure there must be something that combines with lights around the centerpiece to show a little flair, if not a little art. I shift my stuff and somehow, yes...

. Sunshine Sun, shine on me—come and stay! Dry my tears, send gloom away. Warm my soul, chilled to the bone By the freezing wind that’s blown. With your reassuring light Put my griefs and fears to flight. Don’t be shy; no longer hide, Cloaked by rain clouds dark and...

. In a Home based on Michael Bunker’s grandmother (b. 1909) as described in his book Surviving Off Off-Grid . I Old, blind, and helpless, Grandma’s all alone— Bed, radio, phone, and nothing stimulating, __Indifferent care-crew members— Unwanted, worn-out human unit, waiting To be no more than carvings on a...

. A Pro Who Can Con “Truth” is whatever will further the movement. You’re “credible” if you are telling the “truth.” “School” is my method to inculcate values into the minds of our pliable youth. “Investment” means piling up debt on our children. My “right” to free stuff means that...

. A Blanket of Snow from childhood memories of the blizzard of 1949 on a farm near Bonesteel, South Dakota. The world is all bound in a blanket of snow, The kerosene lamps keep the windows aglow. The fire from the hearth with the wood we laid in Protects from...

. Unshackling the Spirit I toss and turn at night. I wonder why I’m here. But then with dawn the skeptic’s free, Dismissing faith and scoffing at the sky. I’m certain---Oh so certain---all I see Is limited to mass and energy--- What I can see and hear and touch and...

. Once the Future You were the future once, not long ago. Your sterile walls of concrete, brick, and glass Outlined in steel, and jutting angles show Scorn for the forms you thought you could surpass. That future now has come---with water-stains, Sun-bleaching, rust, and there a pressure-crack; The vision...

. Learning to Laugh The pathos of a circus clown, with empty pockets inside out, now challenges a small boy’s frown. Bewildered by the mimicked pouts, the racoon eyes and painted tears, he wonders what this clod’s about who falls but never seems to fear the squirting flowers or flying...

. I Can’t Be Bought I can’t be bought. They always pan my poems and they have a plan to pay me if I will agree to stop composing poetry. They say I am an also-ran. Who cares if they are not a fan! My trek as poet just began....

. Windjam Dry leaves abruptly fell that day— Whirled weathervane communiqué Proposing a quick stroll away Along a narrow inlaid path To venture past the aftermath Of an alfresco yellow bath. Emerging from the stonecut room Behind a waterfall’s stray spume, A tenor tone, “May I presume To lift the...

. What Time Is It? “What time is it?” he asks of me, __“It’s now eleven o’clock;” “What time is it?” he asks of me, __As I hear the tick and tock. “What time is it?” he asks of me, __“It’s now eleven o-two;” His eyes light up in childlike...

. A Star O silent sphere of silver-soft-spun light,Thou crystal pearl strung on an airy veilSuffusing bright celestial delightIn snowy glory o'er thy starry trail:The bridal necklace of the night inflameWith purer ray, whose brighter progenyUnveils her blushing face, unmarred by shame,With vestal grace’s immortality---Or so at first you seemed...