Poetry

. Three Sonnets  by Vittorio Alfieri (1749-1803) translated by Adam Sedia . LXXIV Melancholy, why take your only seat On this, my miserable heart---oh, why? A trembling supplicant, I yet entreat: Oh, when will you relieve my tearful cry? Is this dark pomp of your funereal suite--- Infernal phantasms of...

. Walking Near the Waves When, walking near the waves, with eyes downcast, I look at my reflection from the shore, Which seems to sink towards the ocean’s floor, Weighed down by tears, which into tides have massed; The memory of joys forever past Resurfaces, and brings me back once...

. The King of Ice Cream in reference to recent Biden comments here. The current White House resident Is more than just the President. He’s King! The King of Ice Cream! A freezer-full of ice cream! A tragic shooting in Tennessee? He’ll get those guns away, you’ll see. In the meantime,...

. Cryogenic Freezing from the conclusion of A Gallery of Ethopaths Let’s end on a deathly note To grab my readers by the throat. When ethopathic nonsense reigns It keeps a populace in chains, And though touched by death’s icy mitt, An ethopath’s a mindless twit. A lot of half-baked...

. Parque España, Mexico City I walked until I couldn't walk without at least alighting on a city bench, the first that had a shaded seat, about ten yards from workers digging out a trench to place a pipe to mend a water break. But this was causing traffic to...

. Whatfinger Poetry Contest Judged by Mike Bryant . FIRST PLACE . Untitled by Damian Robin Support the online enterprisethat picks the brave from molten lies,that fields the small heroic actsand hits the twists of woken ‘facts’.It shines a light on broken bendsand soaks the fires from token ‘friends’.A worthy...

. Three Denarii OBO For Sale: One ten-foot wooden cross. Good cedar, cypress with some pine. The owner selling at a loss. Used once, by Rome, to assist dying. Some minor nail holes need repair, The crossbeam rope is slightly frayed, With a few bloodstains here and there. Will sell...

. How Great Thou Art __An Easter Ballade . It’s Easter. I can hear the choir sing. The gospels have been prayed upon and read And now I cheer the news the watchmen bring With shouts of “He is risen!” I am led Up to the altar where through wine...

. After the Storm All darkness past, the sun now shines Through shredded storm clouds drained of rain; Its bright beams crown, as day declines, The Victor’s head, now free of pain– That holy head, which for my good Was first pierced by a thorny crown, Now bows in peace,...

. Hymn I met Him on that Sunday afternoon I trod the Kentish cobbles through the streets Of Rochester past dwellings in the gloom Of fog laced with the waft of teashop treats. I entered the cathedral with a heart As heavy as its chilly walls of stone. I heard the organ stir and choir start To launch the lilt of Heaven’s work of art. That sabbath, seeds of...

. . The Shroud of Death The shroud of death’s night-shadow fled Before the dawning light of day; Unveiling tombs wherein the dead In grave and solemn stillness lay. And earth-life voices stirred the air With gentle breeze and creak of limb. And morning reached a garden where The birds...

. Of St. Vitus Cathedral, Prague Once I used to live a waking dream Devoid of starlight: lanterns on the hill Betwined the huddled palaces which gleam In reverence to the crown cathedral’s will. I saw her from my window in those days; From everywhere. From alley, square, and park;...

. Deconstructing Grűnewald’s Crucifixion It isn’t de rigueur these days to show A bloodied, tortured Jesus on the cross. Post-moderns would prefer we came to know Him as innocuous instead of gross. No sympathy allowed, but go ahead And drown him in a jar of urine, mock Him as irrelevant—just...

. The Faithful Who Have Chosen Not to Wait He rose and told us He would come again To supervise a world of righteous men And women who believed in what He’d said, That both the living and the wakened dead Should nevermore of chrism be bereft. But what of...

. The Number 274: Timothy Pugh Now this is the story of Timothy Pugh Who woke up one morning in Regent's Park Zoo. He couldn’t recall what had happened before, Nor how he had boarded the 274. He couldn’t remember events on the bus, Nor whether his buggy had caused...

. Race and Color, 1992 I see white and you see black and other shades of skin in fact. Though we have different colored skin, we're very much alike within. Our blood is red and I must say: "We love and hurt no different way". All humans grow in mother's...

. The Pillar of Fire from Exodus 13: 19-29 A giant, flaming pillar bars our way; The sea yawns open for the Hebrew tribes Permitting them to flee; the horses neigh With fear---sights bound to mystify our scribes! Great Pharaoh, hear me! Don’t command this host Of chariots to slay...

. The Wound in Christ's Side Culprits inflicted countless injuries On Jesus’ body during fifteen hours; The spear-thrust (last of loathsome savageries) Ripped out from His dead Heart, for sins of ours, Water and blood in separate healing showers. Although the gaping puncture proves Him dead, The wondrous wound, life’s...

. True North Light, opalescent, swirls the arctic bright; Siberian, Scandinavian, Alaskan lights. The morning sun, Aurora, hides her face. King David sings a chariot’s fiery flight, a psalmody of light, exultant grace above the open grave of polar night. Midnight: a momentary ache of blue, a tranquility of light,...

. Elagabalus Consults His Soothsayer You must, Soothsayer, probe into Rome’s mind And speak of any hidden threats you find. Your Emperor commands you: show your skill Lest I subject you to my godlike will! In confidence, I come to you afraid That perfidy may soon leave me betrayed! I...

. Oh…I See! While sitting in the park one day, my beagle lying near, a little girl came strolling up---I’d say ‘bout four years old--- And asked me ‘bout a big ol’ tank. She queried, “What is that?” Then calmly stood there, staring at me, waiting to be told. “That’s a tank,”...

. The End Unraveled string may be rewound, __A hidden thing be sighted; A missing object may be found, __A fallen object righted; A candle snuffed can be relit, __And if a glass has spilled, That doesn’t mean the end of it--- __It still may be refilled. A soiled cloth...

. Regret The rivulets, the patterns in the glass, the dots of rain that race down to the sill, the treacle speed of days that somehow pass, she thinks will kill her, but they never will. It wasn't all her fault, she tells herself, too late to change a single...

. The Mystery of Poetry The mystery of poetry __is found between the lines. The poet sends the signals while __the sentence shows the signs. Alliterative artifices __alert the adept minds. The power of each poem portrays __the images one finds. Enchantment of entendrés and __emotions words define, As carefully...

. A Screw ‘Em Sermon for Government-Anointed Experts “Political language... is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give solidarity to pure wind.” ---George Orwell Dish up linguistic picnics Just shy of one pork pie. Make fruitful news so nutty All rationale will fry In lands of clouds and cuckoos Where pigs...

. Marching with the Mourners In Memory of Richard and Rob inspired by the Halt Hospital Homicide Rally I attended in San Antonio on March 25, 2023, for those who lost their lives to evil Covid-19 protocols.   They gathered at the Alamo then strolled With banners bearing faces of the dead...

. La Muerte In those days, no king ruled in Ithaca. A pack moved in with communist ideals: An orgy funded by another’s store. Wine flowed like beer, with all the women free. All except one. Plus one too old to count. The old order withdrew in toothlessness, And kept...

. Signs of the Times . I. Hymn 6-6-6 a rondeau Hymn 6-6-6 on high display— The devil’s number where we pray Before the Lord—is that a thing? Is Jesus Christ no longer King? Must Satan now be met halfway? It’s never been more than today That “all like sheep...

f Jägermeister "Like arrows in the hands of a warrior __are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man __whose quiver is full of them." ---Psalm 127 My quiver’s full, as David said, With children sharp as arrowheads, I’ve taught to aim at Truth and seek, To pierce the...

. Shishaldin Radiant angel, bathed in light, Gleaming opalescent white _On the smooth, sheer snow Clothing your smooth symmetry-- Smooth cone, sculpted gracefully _Like no peak I know--- Rising from the icy sea, Rising high, majestically _Piercing through the blue; Rising to the diamond sun, Your light’s source, the only...

. . Ballerina The balanced ballerina on her toe was poised with perfect posture—back and chest. The crowd, in silent awe, enjoyed the show, as she maintained a flawless arabesque. The dancer twirled to glide a sweet chassé with ease and elegance of mastery. This student of the classical ballet...

. Song of the Wailing Women Her spirit has gone forth. Return her to the earth, Released from work and words; In death she is the Lord’s. Did Adam bury Eve? Leave Abraham to grieve The wife no longer his. He buys a field that is The plot of holy...

. In My Wilderness Once, I thought I saw things clearly. Certainty felt quite sincerely. But, my path was very nearly Overgrown by worldliness. Without charts or maps beside me. With no compass there to guide me And no confidence inside me, I became directionless. I was trapped, was somehow...

. The Cat Who Barked There is a row of trees that crowd the ground, They’re dark and still. My cat lies in that spot. His tiger stripes were equal all around, But now lie wrapped in shrouds and put to rot. Or—perhaps not. Though he once mewed, and purred,...

. Promise While winter holds her icy grip __There’s promise in south breezes That make their yearly northward trip--- __Springtime, she comes and teases. The snow and ice as water run forth __As she firmly squeezes The cold and windy heart of the north __With warm and southerly breezes. In...

. The Glass Delusion of King Charles VI of France ‘His malady grew worse every day until his mind was completely gone. Sometimes he thought he was made of glass and would not let himself be touched. He had iron rods put into his clothing and protected himself in all...

. Pastoral Calls—Part 3 of 3 . Midnight Encounter He was tall, well-built, and handsome and as far as I could tell, If it wasn’t for the crystal meth—intelligent as well. He was in and out of jail and living homeless on the beach. He was brazen, loud, and earthy...

. The following is an excerpt of Don Quixote by Miguel Cervantes, encompassing most of Chapters 1 through 8, including Don Quixote getting his start, acquiring his squire Sancho Panza, and going on the infamous adventure against the windmills. It is based on the 1880 translation by John Ormsby, has been updated...

. The Tragedy of the p and the q . Lovers in eternity The p and q were two eternal lovers Who faced each other in the alphabet. To all else lost, oblivious of others, The ideal Romeo and Juliet. But though united in their gaze forever Yet in the...

. Reality Check __The bars we frequent have been raised too high, Not calibrated to the greatest common factor: __The will to let things slide.  Who can deny This, save for someone who is such a polished actor __That he or she can lie without a quiver Of lip or...