Culture

The above photographs were taken and submitted by New York City poet Joe Tessitore. We invite readers to pick one of the images (or both) and write a poem. Post your poem in the comments section below.    

Mailied by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) How brightly nature Shines this morning! What radiant sun! How the fields sing! The buds burst forth From each green frond! A thousand bushes Resound with song! And joy and wonder Streams from each breast. Oh Earth! Oh Sun! Oh joy without rest!...

  My husband posed his need to leave; a family vote was cast. The outcome brought me to my knees and left my heart aghast. Now, I’m a tad controlling – of that I will admit; “LEAVE” just means we’ll seal a DEAL for an amicable split. It pains my...

  The Constant Truth A Reflection on the Times of My Life   I. The Old Days A sheep filled meadow lay adjacent to our street Where from March throughout spring one could hear the lambs bleat; Where we watched tadpoles dart in the roadside rill’s flow, For I was...

Spring In spring the crocuses broke out as bold As brass from refuge in their barren clay. They speared the air in colourful array And blazoned they their petals proudly told Of azure and of purpure and of gold. Heraldic, seméed in a field were they, Where cultivated gardens may...

Campaign of 1940-1952 True Cincinnati spirit is the love of hearth, the principles of isolation, a life in works of service to the nation. Could he reverse the course and release the doves of peace, he’d throw his barbs at what he felt were dangers to the American way of...

  I hear Boeung Kak has now been filled with gritty sand, turned mud, now earth. The lake’s become a dusty field, yet memory preserves a berth for fishermen in long canoes, just toothpicks seen from on the dock, and sun-dark boys—no use for shoes— who paddled daily on Boeung...

Wind and Vanity after Ecclesiastes 1 My name is Solomon, and you may know me as the king of Israel, David’s son, a man of wisdom unsurpassed. And so I was. And yet I write to you as one emerging from some near-insanity and folly. I have seen, beneath the...

In every life Woe presses down, We falter then— Face to the ground. This woe in me— Am I alone? Without high ground, Can’t see my home! I reach for earth— Find only sand. No foothold here, No place for hand. My open eyes Then finally see Above this world...

Time Time to time to time—from tock to tick, to wall to window topple, stop, then stop: a tower, wrist, a rest, a clerk, a click— around around the sound (a drip) (a drop)— and tripping, dripping, dropping I have been a clock within a clock within a clock that...

Ultimatum  To My Friendly Neighbor Regarding His Overly-friendly Pet* Dear neighbor, do you love your cat? (I'm sure you must, they're such enchanters) I've got a bag of poo (for you) It left in all my planters. My dreams in spring revolve around My growing plants of many species, And...

This piece is sponsored by KidSecured by Evan Mantyk and Kathy Brellan Lord Byron was born George Gordon Byron in London on January 22, 1788 and died just 36 years later in 1824. Yet, despite his short time on Earth, he remains known as one of the greatest English poets...

  Daguerreotype An old once-treasured memory engraved On glass to keep the dying past alive. A fractal blink of time preserved and saved So that the tableau-ed moment would survive. Three men, each silent, starched and stiff, perform A stoic. static, soulless pantomime As their unsmiling, frozen faces form A...

  Aglaia, Euphrosyne, Thalia I find them there, no longer young, Though neatly dressed and well preserved: Three sisters in the trinket shop— Polite and helpful, but reserved. They guide me through their small boutique Of jewelry, knickknacks, souvenirs; Of statuettes and china plates; Of teacups, lamps, and chandeliers; Daguerreotypes...

Doublespeak Denial Rondeau Redoublé “Gender mattered a whole lot less to Shakespeare than it seems to matter to us.” —John Irving If I don’t care for words you have to share (a pitch which strips all speech of honesty) don’t force me to embrace all you declare then name and...

by T.M. Moore   Our Image-hungry Age Increasingly, our postmodern generation prefers its communications to be in as few words and as many images as possible. Hence, the curious success of Facebook—a medium of images—and Twitter—a medium of few words, as well as of the numerous other communication technologies. Hence...

Harvest Sonnet If, in June, clouds crack and seeping, Leak their cache upon beast and field, Surety no longer keeping, This payment, late, defaults the yield; Lest the rain delay the reaping Another week and bring to bear Blight and pests with six legs creeping, To heaven we post one...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kh3gMcOUFao

  Choosing a pet can be vexing and yet it’s important to vet all the choices you’ve got. If you’re in search of a pet who will perch on your silver white birch, it’s the best of the lot. Dactyls are clever as hunters and never go hungry whenever they’re...

  This recording was made by M. P. Lauretta for the Southend Poetry Group in August 2019.   Sonetto n. 7 dal Canzoniere di Francesco Petrarca La gola e ’l sonno e l’oziose piume hanno del mondo ogni vertù sbandita, ond’è dal corso suo quasi smarrita nostra natura vinta dal...

Dodgeball "But we have the mind of Christ." 1 Corinthians 2.16 Sometimes my thought-life is a dodgeball game— except that I’m the only one on my side of the line—and when at length I try to launch my views, distracting thoughts take aim at my attention; a barrage of lame...

  This is an abridged version of the original. A reading of the original can be found here. A chilling breeze blew through the trees, which filtered beams of light That danced in play as dying day gave way to shades of night. As in a dream, each golden beam...

A Treble's Song Is there a thing to match a treble’s song? The joy perhaps of spring-time larks in flight, Or how the migrant birds so deftly throng? What of the mane that speaks the lion’s might? The gentle rain that tempers summer’s drought, Or breeze to soothe its heat,...

  The skylight lets the nascent streak Of gold inside this darkened room; Some wisp of scent invades therein, A perfumed faith to counter gloom. Those orbs of light cast patterns old, Of perching birds, of twigs, of leaves; Though most designs appear archaic, Their lasting touch, my heart perceives....

  Here stand I happ’ly on classical grounds, inspired; the voices speak distinctly in enchanted tone from worlds of today and former times expired. Taking counsel, I leaf through beloved elders’ words, I write, eager, and startling pleasures conceive. (But in the nights, distracted by amour I burn.) However, though...

Political Voice (A Cento) A cento or collage poem takes bits of poetry from past poets and puts them together in a new order. The below poem draws on the poems written for the political campaigns of U.S. Presidents Lincoln, Taylor, and Taft. We’ll sing a song to suit the...

  Irrelevant If the room is the tomb then the elephant is irrelevant.   Haiku From my heart was shown how very much I loved her— could she not have known?   I have found my voice. I do not rejoice—I fear I have lost your ear.   Haiku remind...

Helen Keller (1880-1968) Your eyesight and hearing were gone, yet you felt just as blithe as a fawn ___when you learned that a word ___could stand for a bird or the flowers that bloomed in your lawn. The very first word that you learned was “water.” Thereafter you yearned ___for...

A breeze came out of the North one day, and cried, "September's begun!" A breeze came out of the North one day, declared, "The Summer is done!" by Jack Ahlers You know the fall air—it is somehow clearer than that of dead summer's heat. Sounds take on a different tone...

Writer's Block I feel like I am plodding through cement; My mind is full of cotton batting. Dull, And dense, and empty-headed, thinking spent On trying to find clarity. To mull About within and come up vacant. Try I might but efforts are in vain. My words Seem plastic, or...

A ball that’s lost should never cost ____A one-stroke penalty. Where now it dwells finds someone else— ____It’s stolen property! When perfect putt lips ‘round the cup, ____No stroke need added be. For physics claimed the putt was drained ____By law of gravity. If hook or slice, it isn’t nice...

The Pain of Foreign Occupation The land lay naked under hobnailed boots Of German occupiers in The Hague. The Blitzkrieg had commenced with parachutes And covered sedate Holland like a plague. That’s how the war began, there in the west; First Rotterdam was savagely destroyed, A terrible example for the...

  I. Is curiosity the bane of man As seeking knowledge often leads to woe? Do only fools pass their allotted span Disclosing some things better not to know? Or is pursuit of truth its own reward, Stagnation of the mind the lesser choice? A perspicacious man is never bored,...

In 1937, the renegade Communist Leon Trotsky (real name: Lev Bronstein) came to Mexico with his family and took up residence with the painter Diego Rivera and his wife Frida Kahlo. An affair developed between Trotsky and Kahlo, and Rivera demanded that Trotsky leave. Soon afterwards in his new residence...

A Man for Two Seasons by T.M. Moore I’m in a constant state of readiness for fall. For me, the perfect climate goes from winter straight to autumn, sans the stress of spring and allergies, and all the woes that come with summer's heat and sweat. Unless I’m off the...

  "Progressive" mind accompanies the art Of writing poetry at present time. Great intellectuals from forms depart, And love free verse that spurns meter and rhyme. If poems be composed in such a way That lines consecutive are relevant, They may attract the readers’ snort today Though they convey what...

Keeping the Door Ant hordes scurried in purposeful files; Angry, alert, full to demonic marching: They came in batteries to batter: _____But I kept the door. Worms twisted achingly upwards into wiles Of air and ever coiled most arching On pathways which would be straighter, later; _____But I kept the...

Song of the Crab Nebula in celebration of 50 years after Apollo 11 Long before the first eyes ever saw me __Floating like a ghost upon the night, Long before human minds even feebly __Pierced beyond their dimly shrouded sight, I was there, though clothed in different raiment, __Blazing like...

Of All God’s Living Creatures Of all God’s living creatures only we With subtle artifice create our style Of dress and image, and with painted smile Construct the me we want the world to see. Though what they are is all that they can be, Would any beast consider it...

  Fright and Flight The sleeping farm was bathed in soft moonlight. A quiet evening, peaceful and subdued; When suddenly a single bovine mooed And then a second answered from her right. The pastured herd of cows was huddled tight Against a fence where each had calmly chewed Its cud...