Poetry

. Nordic Memories They rise with the dawn of fashion Their eyes for new booty are keen, To ride the...

. Lines Written in a Time of Illness My body is weak, and this reflects my soul,Who baser pleasures is...

. The Matters of Life With furrowed brow she knits away her troubles,Her wrinkled face so tight and drawn with...

. Help! I Can’t Stop Speaking in Iambic! Help! I can’t stop speaking in iambic Pentameter! No matter what I...

. On Learning of a Lover’s Death Your parting words were not exactly nice, But when I read the news...

. The Blank-Page Stage I once embraced the blank-page stage, when words would somehow always rhyme, but now my brain...

. Catching Up An hour passes in a second. A month goes by in just an hour. The rosy future...

. 'Twas the Day After Christmas ‘Twas the day after Christmas. Mom went to the store To return all her...

. Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming Every year I either compose new music for Christmas or create a new...

. Ode to a Christmas Pudding O fragrant orb of dark and luscious depths Made with magic conjured every year...

. Stars Voluble Profound and lightless silent night _Lay still with curtains closed. Into unspeaking dark the Word Descended from...

. Christmas in Florida I watched him pass! St. Nick himself---Kris Kringle,Who hails from Buffalo, not the North Pole.He waved;...

. A Present Unclaimed Under the tree is a present unclaimed Paper and ribbon and bows, good to go. Who...

. Professional musician and SCP poet Jeff Eardley performs a medley of Christmas songs on his guitar. Merry Christmas from...

. Make Room, He’ll Come In Have you spent much time wandering, feeling distressed,and upon your arrival, found no place...

. Santa Claus Has Passed Away As is their custom every year, the Men’s Club promptly after class had half...

. Love Broke Through Time On the first Christmas night Love broke through time With pain to Mary and her...

. A Remarkable Day "He's God in human form!" whispers the crowd In motley clothes and groups of twos and...

. A Christmas Eve Sestina “He who sings prays twice.” ---Saint Augustine The vagabond had too much Christmas cheer. He...

. Jupiter Hammon’s Christmas Poem by Michael Curtis 1761 was a slow, yet interesting year for poetry. The imposter Macpherson...

. Home for Christmas Beneath the sinking skies I ride, a traveler on his way,           ...

. The Story the Stars are Retelling ---to the tune of 'Sterling' When burdens are heavy and Christmas is near...

. The Interview “Respect my grammar rules or else,” K said, “This interview will be extremely short. Or better yet,...

. Dim and Not He carries one white candle in the space Beneath cathedral vaults. He has to hold His...

. Be Still and Know . . . Gulls brawl over a chip and squawk. __Waves wash shell shards on...

. Full Circle From age to age how long the fray’s been fought Tween those who seek the Truth on...

. Song of the Sophist a pantoum I tiptoe past all that is true--- The facts never matter to me....

. The Most Impactful Hate It’s fun now to listen to every Trump haterWho tries to explain how a racist...

. Aubade: Composure The first light tints the eggshell walls From dimmest grey to violet, And light-spokes through the window’s...

. The Lonely Sailor No sailor is so lonely __As one who rows alone Across the vast and battered seas...

. A’sailin’ ‘Twould seem quite true I never was __the captain of this ship, though in my youth I did...

. Come, Spring When by the winter cold we’re most oppressed, mere thoughts of spring’s arrival make us smile. We...

. The Wreath Circle of green— What does it mean? Never ending, Ever bending. It’s hope that’s vernal And faith...

. Intersubjective Bootstrap If all life is a dream, is it your dream or mine? __And why should our two...

. Journalists Live in a Fantasy World If you like fiction, then turn on the news. You will hear journalists...

. Let’s Just Say A friend of ours was asked by some reporter how he viewed the war his only...

. Imitating Shakespeare’s Sonnet 107 . Sonnet 107 __by William Shakespeare Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of...

. A House in Winter Preternaturally silent, still.The omnipresent biting chill, And deepest, darkest night surround.The snow’s soft crunch, the...

. A Simple Prayer Crown my head in gray, dear Lord, __And bless my tangled tongue. Return to me the...

. Sharpton He talks his walk and walks his talk and then He walks his talk and talks his walk...