Poetry

I. The Tin Shant on the hill in Martinique is stoutly situated, unique in design, and built half a century ago.  Though stucco and cinderblock, we call it the Tin Shant due to a fine-sounding tap on the tin roof during rain.  Lovely sounds when you’re comfortable and dry. What’s...

  A miracle, how else to say it then? At first, but ground, absolutely nothing there, A river meandering by, some cattle, gorse, Nettle and herbs whose use proved no sure cure. Then, as if by magic, he stood majestic, by – Conjured from out thin air his being gainsaid...

  The Glass Bottle Tree When the wind blows through, the tree shakes. The glass bottles tip their sunlight Over a stiff hearth of twilight; Sealing its glow as night awakes. Two silhouettes do gives and takes In drums of waltz down blue moonlight. When the wind blows through, the...

  Currency of Compassion Throughout the history of humanity conscious coveting with eyes, insanity anxious and eager to grasp with empty hands a void in the beating heart, deviant plans rash, thoughtless takers of a world marching on loud voices troll the abominating song. Confusion and greed found, pushing those...

When the last candles smoldered on the funeral eve, And no echo of condolence rippled midnight silence, I rose in scented darkness and took my leave. December met me at the church’s door and raised my eyes To nebulae shining where ends precede beginnings, To myriad galaxies’ solemn surprise -...

. . Fathers and Grandfathers When we see our Brethren bold, Reach the age called Growing old, Men grow thoughtful, mind afire, With the echoes of a Sire. Working, eating, drinking, they, Striding through their noontide-day, With a stately, decent air, That within the lion’s lair Stood with strength, and...

I walked around the garden, and did think. If I had my own how would I create? With enclosed space I’d make myself here sit. Comfortably, and I could have tea and cake. From broad leaved plants a wooden structure made. Encouraged Ivy, wrap and grow agreed. And reached the...

True to Nature Men take up arms to battle in the sun, anticipating minor victories won o'er valiant, steadfast foes who, if they could, would laugh and say our blades do little good as far as cutting them down to their size. For soon enough the downtrodden shall rise and...

The aspens are turning, my neighbor said. I went to see. Mostly gold, some red, They stood and whirled, their white trunks bare. A bright sheen (spun gold) filled the air. The whole big hill was turning, too. Trees from the back came into view. I tried with a toe...

Originally published in The Epoch Times. LinkedIn's Censorship in China LinkedIn connects people the world over, Crafting a cozy café oceans wide Where people can sip with each other, Do business without an eight-hour ride. Yet, recently, when I was at LinkedIn, I noticed something red in my chai tea;...

Poems from the Hungarian Poetry Reading 9/19/2013   Twenty Years Later By János Vajda (1827–1897) / Translation by Zsuzsanna Ozsváth and Frederick Turner Like snow on Mont Blanc's distant crest, That neither sun nor wind may harm, My unvexed heart now lies at rest, Inflamed by no new passion's charm....

I left my gloves at the analyst's He called to say he'd found them Black, he said, lined with cotton Green, I said, lined with satin He saw them right, confound him Not the leather, a fine dark green But the lining—just cotton Ordinary winter stuff Dull patina, flannel-rough No...

“Hello, again!” the sun does say when rising on a morn in May. “Thanks for the break,” replies the moon. “I need to go to bed quite soon.” The sun then bids, “Don’t fade so fast! Why can’t you get your light to last?” The moon retorts, “Fine talk from...

That distant bellow is merely a case Of west wind rushing through the tamarack In a race with itself to cliff and back, Far from the lake's quiet undisturbed face But for the waxwings' endless mayfly chase, The roll of shore-bound flotsam, bric-a-brac Topped with foam, following a daubed-light track...

Imagine that you were lost in a wilderness and had to find your way out. Fortunately, you have with you a number of things, or tools if you will. In the first instance you have a kitbag, which is itself useful. Within it are various articles: a bottle of water,...

Some People Say Some people say that giraffes were petite and they grew their necks out to properly eat, or they were once dinosaurs who lost their wings. But I know God makes serendipitous things.   I Had A Pair I had a pair of tennis shoes who caught a...

Seasong I heard the wreathéd coral horn That Triton blew, and less forlorn Did suddenly I feel: I heard the sirensong afar I launched a ship and tracked a star How soon my heart did heal! I saw the shade of Hy Brasil, And what delight within me filled To...

On the painting "Le berges d'Arcadie" by Nicolas Poussin The rugged mountains in the distance stand beyond, above the three, young shepherds and the shepherdess, who gather round a tomb that they have come upon, inscribed: ET IN ARCADIA EGO. They rest. The man in blue is tracing letters carefully,...

At the Moment of Our Death At the moment of our death As we draw our final breath Should we not project a fear Of the prospect of not being here? The moment that closes tight The door of time, turns out the light And orders man to conform To...

  Held on May 26, 2014, at Da Tang, in New York, participants read Tang Dynasty poetry, translated poetry previously written by attendees, and wrote poetry. Here are some of the poems:   Fahui Falun Dafa Experience Sharing Conference By James Smith Thousands of hearts pause amidst the current Students’...

Blue and Yellow Barn-Swallows She made a note to note when they arrived. It’s obvious whenev’r they fin’lly do. Over the cows they dipped and ducked and dived. “They have two houses; shouldn’t we have two? I wonder where they stay in Mexico? Or maybe Florida? Or some Texas barn?...

  Our ends and deaths sit with us all the time defining executioners and crime; and though we try to keep them from our door, many killings lie within the Law— are even processed as a human chore. Killing resonates a moral negative, but it’s a soldier’s job to take...

Coastal Shingle There, totem-stacked in paratactic charm, The words cascade: Hay.Shavings.Piglets.Straw. I had not sought a sign from Salt Marsh Farm, But since this was the only one I saw, I turned from what had been my course till then, Meaning, while sun was shining still that day, To give...

Zhen-Shan-Ren: “Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance,” the three main principles of Falun Dafa Zhen-Shan-Ren, Zhen-Shan-Ren… Hear the Truth that sounds like “Zhen,” Rhythm that can vanquish lies, Self-deceptions vaporize: Zhen-Shan-Ren, Zhen-Shan-Ren… Hear Compassion for all men That can make our hearts ascend, Make the Good a splendid trend: Zhen-Shan-Ren, Zhen-Shan-Ren… Hear Forbearance in the...

Ashamed I will no longer be... Ashamed I will no longer be To write an older poetry -- I have the right to reach for rhyme And make the most of measured time -- While looked upon I am with scorn -- And ridiculed -- as per fashion -- I...

The cost of insurance was such Its price I could sadly not touch -- So I gave all of that To a young bureaucrat And now it costs three times as much!   Troy Camplin is an author, poet, and interdisciplinary scholar living in Richardson, Texas. Featured Image: "Doctor and...

Updated January 10, 2020 Ascending the Phoenix Terrace in Jinling by Li Bai (701-762) Here phoenix roamed four hundred years ago, A sign of the enchantment that once thrived; How empty now, where no more feathers flow, A lonely river is all that’s survived. Lush garden of the grand Wu...

The Battleground The slashing blades strike fierce and deep The newly stricken fall down in heaps. In vain: the foe storms back enraged, The scythe-like swords remain engaged. The rampaging hordes beat with passion; Blade-wielders reply in their own fashion. Undaunted, the enemy tries once more, The swords, unstinting, produce...

  Cynthia Moon Go drag your white skull before blind seas That tumble dazed to your mono-eyed magic Go string the treadmill tides around the poles And make all starry lovers pale and sick Go tell Neptune when the night is through Charm him too with your waxing and waning...

Waiting, Sadly For Keats I'm waiting, sadly, for a guest to come: What hour defeats me and how I don't know. But come he will, like some ghost to his own, And when he knocks I'll answer him and go. The door will open, and the warm air out, Such...

The two were different as could be as anyone could surely see One was tall and thick and white, the other black and thin and slight To look at them it would be clear to any stranger standing near That neither would think of the other as a friend or...

The Fallen Vestige The fallen vestige of her foliate time: Browned leaves beneath; coarse needles of old pine Once green and pungent; when her nests in spring With peeping chicks, and swaying boughs, would sing. So splendors fade, as does the daily light; Of seed and growth and birth and...

Vespers Lonely broods the moonlit gloom High above the river's flume, Hiding in its dark vault Stars nebulous clouds exalt. The winds are free, the roaring sea Loosed the breeze upon the lea, And bound the sand's serene horizons. Days, in summer-brightened seasons, Rustle like a bee's buzzing bustle Round...

Click: a Pic of Xi Jinping By Lu "Reed Cabs" Wei He rolls along, like as a giant panda bear, the present tyrant of Red China—Xi Jinping, appearing in his black and white, fine, formal wear, with his half-smiling, smarm-offensive, Gigi bling. His state is kingly, yes, imperially fat; a...

Oh what is the hue? The right shade of blue To color the new morning sky And the green for the trees But, what color’s the breeze? How does one paint but a sigh? I’d paint the clouds white The sun yellow and bright As it kisses the things that...

Tell me why the patient is still crying. What pharmaceuticals? pain pills? barbiturates? What pretties has the doctor been supplying? Finish the prescription. Don't give up trying the newest, truest of amalgamates. Tell me why the patient is still crying. Xanax will put you down when you are flying, while...

Retreating Snow Like an old man dragging his long white hair out of the lawn, back toward the forest’s shade, the snow retreats, cornered, and well-aware of time that’s up and warmth it can’t evade… Young blonde Apollo bays this crumbling foe and inch by inch reclaims the tawny grass;...

  Ode to Alexander They say he cried, the great king, when He marched upon his journey's end. To live but once, and yet to know There's so much further man could go. I'm sure twas no one could console That mighty, strong, and broken soul. When worlds and worlds...

"Beauty comes from life well lived." —Wilbur Dee Case They are all looking for a loveliness refined, a beautiful design or feeling of sublime. And there are moments when they find it, and refind it, on their journeys through this world and this time. And they are happy then, so...