Poetry

. A play in one act based on the true story of Li Zhenjun. Play by Evan Mantyk. Characters Narrator / Voice of Tradition Zhenjun “George” Li Communist Policeman 1 (CP 1) Communist Policeman 2 (CP 2) Man . SCENE I The Voice of Tradition speaks to audience. . TRADITION...

Palimpsest ...written in their hearts... Romans 2.15 We try, but cannot fully scrape away those ancient words engraved upon the soul. We would instead compose upon the scroll of our morality that which today appeals, although we understand that too will overwritten be at some point soon enough. Whatever pleasing,...

  It is rare that a bill can succeed on The Hill based on only the skill of a hobbyist. If you suffer the lack of a plan of attack, what you need is the knack of a lobbyist. Since their fee must be paid and expenses defrayed, I’ll dispense...

  Christmas has been canceled—it’s naughty Santa’s fault. His haughty carbon footprint has been a grave assault on melting polar ice caps; they’re now a muddy puddle, where sweaty elves and Rudolph are sizzling in a huddle. Adios St. Nicholas, your super-speedy sleigh should’ve been an eco-yacht; your flights have...

Come to Bethlehem / Silent Night   Song and Poem by James A. Tweedie Come to Bethlehem, come and see God stripped bare of majesty. Fragile as a flower; Emptied of might and power; Come to set God’s people free. Jesus Christ is born. Born into a family. Died upon...

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sA_UsvwgdQ8 Our nakedness was swaddled by the night, With Eden’s worn-out dust our feet were shod, When heaven opened and a being of light Announced that earth had just received its God. And we beheld what angels had foretold: The Patriarch, the Virgin, and the Child. The barn was...

The Feast of the Nativity ‘Twas the night before a brilliant star They roam the desert near and far, When they happen upon the city of light The City of David in all her might. Greeted, they are, from here and from there, Yet nowhere to lay their heads so...

Carol They come slowly—loiter, you might say, Some with olive oil splashed on their bums, Others with enormous crooked thumbs, All full of holes like sculptures on display. Broads… up to their elbows in sweet cake; Widows…clad in blizzards of mock snow; Ladies… so thin that their skeletons glow; Tarts…with...

by James Sale Alessio Zanelli is a fascinating poet, and probably a fascinating man as well. This is his sixth collection of poems and part of his well-publicised and unique charm is that he is an Italian who writes creatively in the English language. This is an extraordinarily difficult thing...

  For many, the gifts are the be-all and end-all: the big screen, the tablet, the Barbie and Ken doll. For me, gifts I get are like ice in the sun. I cannot recall them. No, not even one. How did I find a true way to remember the import...

  Recalling Christmas in the past: the time I mixed my drink— a cocktail, “Everything we have”… I puked at lunch. I think you ate your meal, despite the stink! Another time, our puppy dog tore gifts beneath the tree. A nasty whiff: we didn’t spot the poop till half...

Sara's Prayer* Take me beyond all thought and word, where only beauty can be heard. Then silently, before Your throne, I'll dance, Dear Lord, for You alone.   Claire* She dances like a flowing vine that has the most exquisite line drawn by the hand of the Divine on this...

  Cradled in my country’s corn-rich plains, North of the river, good and fertile land, There is a certain wood, that, when it rains, Exhales a breath of life not meant for man. That wood has given mouth-to-mouth to me. A certain path meanders through the trees, Soliciting and shameless...

Childhood Conjugation Our mother tongue’s a mile-long smorgasbord where children eat for free. With giggling ease they wolf down words that grown-ups can’t afford and guzzle grammar like soft strings of peas. One day I told my three-year-oldish kid the hour had come to clear her breakfast plate. “I amn’t...

The Lonely Ghost Speaks Each night, upon the creaking stairs My footfalls make no sound As, sad and slow, I climb with no Connection to the ground. Each day, I walk incessantly through every room and hall, But like the air, my presence there Is noticed not at all. For...

  Each poem below describes a phobia. Guess what the person is scared of in each. For extra credit try to name the phobia’s official name. Post your answers in the comments section below.   Phobia 1 There was a young lady from Snives Who was frightened to open her...

  The Winter of Our Contentment Without the winter there would be no spring, No snowdrops, crocus, scilla, daffodils, Or any other bulbs that need deep chills To send up flowers. Almost anything Would be preferred to missing these bright blooms, And so it is, we dream the reindeer hoof...

Intruders Beware If you but knew what weakness lies concealed Within this adamantine outer shell— What woes, what worries I'm too proud to tell; If you but once should tiptoe past this shield, Sidestep the anger I so fiercely wield In my defense; if you should break the spell, Subdue...

  Manichaeus, the 3rd century B.C. founder of the heretical religion Manichaeism, addresses the Zoroastrian god Ahura-Mazda Tremble, Ahura-Mazda! Be thou dumb Upon thine altars ash’d of ancient fires. For thou art sick! Nor wast thou ever-young. Trembling near thy magus-choirs Keep not death’s chamber holy-still, Profane they cry, “The...

An Aussie Christmas That joyous time has come to pass When summer’s heat warms man and beast, And wheaten fields burnt burnished brass Cannot compare, not in the least, With star of gold upon the tree— A pointer to Epiphany. Excited children wake and run To take delight at gifts...

Hating Life after Ecclesiastes 2 Within my heart I said, “Come now, and I will test your soul with mirth.” For surely, so I thought, the man who would be wise must try out every pleasure, so that he can know all sides of life. But this was vanity. I...

  In Canto 8 the poet and Dante, accompanying him, encounter the next-door neighbour, Peter, who brutally murdered his wife for money. Escaping from there, they enter a lower hell where they are about to meet a famous Western political mass-murderer of the C21st who is forever condemned for his...

Grimm Reckonings Summary Thoughts on Five Fairy Tales: A Sonnet Cycle   Rapunzel I wish Rapunzel could have saved the day __By climbing down her own unfurled hair, __Escaping from her prison-tower lair __Without a prince to help her get away. Why do all hapless damsels in distress __Need to...

’Twas the Night Before Christmas ’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the malls there was widespread confusion and hot, frenzied brawls. Many shoppers were wanting the same bloomin’ gifts. Desperation resulted in feud-level rifts. There were four grandmas fighting for one preschool game. Their ferocity made angry pit...

. Rosemary, Cypress, Cedar, and Pine Rosemary and Cypress, and Cedar and Pine, Green waxen needles and skin of like kind, Deciduous Cypress asleep in the cold, Like Cedar, a hardwood to build a stronghold. Rosemary and Pine are the two you can eat, Her needles, plus garlic make butter...

Morning in England Morning in England: web and dew. The county matters not in name, nor distant city hid from view, for this is Albion in her fame; Who—whether solitary lane, or verge astride the emerald rows, transplants herself from northern rain to southern downs—the whole land knows. Such land...

  Rain, lapping at the windows fast, falls cold and ceaseless, painting lines of marble on the silvered glass while clouds cast dark and thunder whines; but these walls will not let it pass and through a cloud-gap sunlight shines. I watch it from the darkened room, for I am...

I think that I shall never see A tree that is invisible. The very thought is risible— Or maybe it's advisable To say the word as 'rīsible.' My crucial point is clear to see —I mean it can be seen, not clear— What's clear cannot be seen. I fear I...

  My Adventskalender in Germany made Of paper and glitter has Heaven displayed Through twenty-four windows. Come open with me Each miniature vision of things heavenly. Behind the first window are rabbits who dance. The second, a glittering snowflake enchants, And third, there’s a cat lying down with a mouse...

by T.M. Moore The hectic pace that defines the lives of most of us may be doing more than merely serving as a source of stress and irritation. It may be robbing us of encounters with beauty, wonder, and glory that can thrill and transform us, enrich our lives, and...

  Perhaps the color of your world was dun, And you sank in your couch when work was done, To calculate injustice, add the sum, Saw all was brown, but rays of silver light Which sent you out to locate evil, fight. You were a fighter with a dark, harsh...

  There lies a way to heaven by that lake. My sickness gone, I fear no chilly mist; A redwing calls me, dawn is now awake, The fragrant autumn air I can’t resist. There is my home far from this cottage small, Where honeysuckles with gold aspens mate, And purple...

  From cradle to the grave, From womb to musty tomb, The sanity I crave Is in a dining room With family gathered there: Thanksgiving, on a chill November day—no tare Subtracted, if good will Shall draw us ever close. Libations may besot, Yet rare the overdose Where blessings are...

  There Is a River There is a river that I know that flows through quiet meadowland Nearby a row of cottages which by a levee quaintly stand. I saw that river long ago, when one day, to amuse myself I built a jigsaw puzzle which my parents kept upon...

by James Sale Sonnets, 2nd edition. Shanti Arts, 2020 Jesus and Eros, Bardsinger Books, 2014 Theresa Rodriguez is a relatively new and exciting poet on the pages of The Society of Classical Poets. As a classically trained singer and teacher, she has a particularly fine voice and a tremendous presence...

The Plight of Animals The plight of animals, how must it be Ordained thus, either by a just God or A merciful? By nature meek and poor, They have no hopes, no future can they see And all they own their living now as we. No retrospect, their past is...

  by Caud Sewer Bile A deep state run by rulers lacking thought, a young, unschooled, and mad mob living low, corruption's muddy rivers running hot, a lapdog mainstream media in tow, a land where thugs promote liberticide, a censoring of varied points of view, an honoured constitution tossed aside,...

  As I was strolling in a glade of green And paid but little thought to anything, I hardly knew what vistas filled the scene Of birds intensely hast’ning on the wing. What forceful aim possessed them, but not me, In migratory flight with purpose clear, Whereas my thoughts were...

Reflections on a Dead Whale The sound of surf; the scratch of sand on feet; The sight of distant ships; the taste of salt; And on the gentle springtime ocean breeze The putrid, pungent, rotting stench of death. A behemoth, a California Gray, A biblical leviathan, as still as stone....

  Palermo’s great basilica is still— All prayers are tongueless for a lonely hour. Here high and holy silence can be breathed Like incense from the smoking thuribles Swung by acolytes at solemn mass. Antonello’s Virgin turns her eyes Ever so gently to one side. Perhaps The sacristan has shuffled...