Poetry

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...

Shattered Prospects Pursued by every shadow,He rode the winding wayTo where his love lay waiting:Trunk packed for ocean stay.An owl looked on in silence;A wombat backed away -It seemed, no-one had noticedThe saddle-bag’s low sway. He wore a conscience heavy;More weighty than the goldRemoved beneath the nosesOf troopers bullet-holed.But one...

  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...

Arise, You Bones “Come, spirit, from the four winds, and blow upon these slain, and let them live again.” –Ezechiel 37:9 Arise, you bones of millions, scattered far, Half-buried, all forgotten, that remain From the red dragon and its blood-stained star, That crushed near half the world beneath its reign,...

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...

Old Glory It’s just another job—another day At work in dismal districts of this world. She sorts out shapes and strips of cloth unfurled; Enduring cruel hours for paltry pay. And having fitly threaded her machine, She swiftly stitches stars upon the field; Then stripes, by color and specific yield;...

. . 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,...

Happy Holidaze Our holidays we sanitize. They don’t offend or stigmatize. In fact we made them squeaky clean, but what, by jingle, do they mean?   The Nutcracker: Waltz of the Flowers * A dewdrop sparkles on the rose __but for a moment, this she knows. Breathtaking poise transcending time—...

  They look at you with contempt and sneer, A haughty air permeating there. "Equality" is their pernicious cheer; Floating up high on corrupted air. To battle for the poor, a masquerade, Feigning to forge and dig the ditch. Media to bolster their charade, They scheme to materially enrich. And...

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...

  I read that Christ said: “Turn the other cheek,” And told good friends I held that notion, but Still wondered if that turning made me weak. The answer didn’t seem to be clear cut. “I’ll show you weakness,” said His voice, “Just see What blood Red China’s done to...

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...

  The Chinese Bill of Rights In China, laws regarding human rights May keep a simple man awake at nights, Suspecting that a Mand'rin guten Morgen Might mean the harvest of a vital organ. Old Adolf Hitler would have found his equal With what's played out in this Far-Eastern sequel....

(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;...

  Oh Lat, dear Lat, where art thou at? Methinks thou seem a bit too flat... On Superman, and blokes like that, Your rippling mass is no doormat! With Arnold, Dwayne the Rock, and Hulk, The goal has been to build more bulk: No pain no gain—don't sit and sulk,...

  —from A Gallery of Ethopaths Schools are diploma mills that provide Credentials for people who have to hide In the small chinks of some corporation Or a bureaucracy’s minor station. Pay your tuition and get your paper And you’ll be ready for your next caper: Type up a résumé—if...

  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...

  If poets are supposed to write of death then let me O! poetically regret the beating heart abruptly stopped, the breath that falls like lead upon the coverlet. Let me intone the soft and wistful sighs attendant on unwarranted demise; and taste the tear that springs up unawares when...

  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...

  A wondrous thing that happens as your exit becomes near, is that “long-term” consequences need not cause you fear! Bottom line: there’s no “long-term” when soon you’ll meet your savior! The construct becomes meaningless, so why restrain behavior? Melanoma matters not, go bask in the bright sun. Enjoy your favorite cigarette after the tanning’s done. Who cares...

after Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven" __Once upon an evening dreary, I searched for news, at least in theory, Over many a dubious and mendacious channel that I abhor— __While I surfed, nearly barfing, suddenly there came a harping, __There was someone roughly berating, berating everything I stand for. “‘Tis some moron,”...

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...

  Here Comes the Hybrid Bus Here comes that brand new hybrid bus Round the street so pretty; It's length so long it makes the turn, And bends right round the city. It's certainly looking very clean, All spic and span and bright; Too bad that not a single soul...

on the state of poetry today I see the threads have all aligned __In a patchwork tapestry That seemed at first all but resigned __To the death of poetry. The colors of the patchwork poems, __Splendid though each of them seems, Are mismatched swaths cut off from homes, __Fraying fast...

Traditional Sacred Polyphonist of England Wilton! Could music make the dead to rise, Spare life its toil, move wills from sloth, Bind happy lovers in their troth, Or lift a heart to soar upon the skies, Rather would I your holy strains to hear, That breathe of the eternal life...

Ms. Hayden, On Your Selection of Our Next Poet Laureate: For poetry to rise again Seek one who has applied the pen To that which all can understand, To verse which is sublime and grand. Choose one who writes for all to read, Who is from all pretension freed, Who...

Politician or Poet When in one’s soul the politician calls forth – The poet’s voice withers and comes to naught. And poems become a bedlam of propaganda Praising the party’s agenda. The poet’s pain…  His cruel fate… Has brought censorship and hate. He’s now consumed with different fires… Only the...

The Hindu's Lament As I passed a lonely temple in the after-evening glow, On the banks of the Ganges where the quiet waters flow, When the sun had sunk to rest and cool softness touched the air, I saw a dark-skinned Indian and I heard him chant this prayer: Bhagwan! ...

To Chavistas You profit off the indignance of the poor just like the imperial loansharks you denounce, you’ve murdered trees and poisoned lakes and swore the water’s safe to drink then gloat to announce: “Capitalist pollution is no more!”— by rubbing on the oil-genie underground who, along with opposition blood...