Poetry

. Somewhere in Time . Tuesday, August 13, In the Year of Our Lord 1895 Dear Wells, despite your sober apprehension, I’m grateful that you’ve granted me the boon Of borrowing your brilliant new invention. I plan to use it Sunday afternoon. I share your fears that changing past events...

. Ode to Winter A honeypool of sun seeps from the skies. The crisp and clingy leaves have lost their grip. __My scarlet spirits dip As gold and russet highs bid cold goodbyes. I feel your icy bite in twilight’s breeze--- __Your stinging chill; Your silver nip; your hoary, moon-licked...

. Vanity Falls I’m feeling a little lightheaded; I’ll confess it’s what I’ve always dreaded: More hairs on the floor Than ever before, My ego and vanity shredded. . . Miera Rao is a writer living in California who has won awards for her creative non-fiction and poetry.   Her...

. God’s Finger on Whittaker Chambers My baby miracle so dear Smeared oatmeal on her face; I saw her perfect seashell ear, Curving like a vase, The pinkest little fiddlehead, In spiral like a scroll. How could blind chance, inert and dead, Make such a pretty bowl? My little Ellen...

. Thanksgiving 2022 Today’s the day we gather and embrace The chance to join in praise for gifts we share. We cuddle, chat and chortle---face-to-face. We’re social souls not meant to sit and stare At frigid screens where warmth is out of reach--- Cold pixels can’t replace a tender touch....

. I Am Thankful for Thanksgiving I am thankful for Thanksgiving, A special holiday That doesn't require atonement, Or starvation, by the way. There are no gifts I need to give, Less money to be spent. Just cook a turkey dinner In an aluminum foil tent. Everybody has their favorite...

. Thanksgiving Memories A honeyed ham impaled with clove; Mashed yam with bits of sweet pecan; A turkey lurking in the stove With tryptophan to make us yawn. Tomato juice with horseradish Lime Jell-o mixed with cottage cheese. And green beans (my least favorite dish) Are old Thanksgiving memories. Fond...

. A Thanksgiving Offering We offer thanks to You who made this Earth The sun and stars, for health and love and mirth. For granting us the sacred gift of life Along with faith to overcome all strife; For dignity and grace beyond all measure; And freedom---something righteous people treasure....

. Just Say It Two bombs exploded in Jerusalem Today. A boy of just 15 is dead--- A Jewish student on his way to school. And 18 more were wounded, all of them Israeli Jews at bus stops now streaked red. The media would play us for a fool. It’s...

. When Light Begins to Dim When light begins to dim and color fades, the shape of things begins to matter more. An edge defines, the angles hint, and shades of layered grays I never knew before come faintly first to rinse the unsunned sky of what remembrance holds of...

. Heirs to Alexander These snuff-brown mounds piled up ten thousand feet Gaze on toward Hindu Kush peaks twice their height; Green threads of valleys mark the rough retreat Wherein Kalasha keep their recondite Festivities with sacrificial meat. Good wine and brandy old Caucasian folk Knew how to make when...

. Construct a convincing paragraph of well-written, coherent prose that also happens to be a properly composed Shakespearean sonnet. This challenge and the below example come from poet James A. Tweedie.  . Example . First the prose paragraph: . I’ve never understood why poets write their verse in artificial metered...

. Inviting Some Friends to a Birthday Dinner after Ben Jonson's "Inviting a Friend to Supper" Tonight, dear friends, you’re welcome to observe Another birthday dinner---and deserve To know it’s mainly an excuse for us To invite friends, no gifts required, no fuss Expected, though I will confess, I still...

. Nero Before the Tomb of Simon Magus And Peter, looking steadfastly against Simon, said: “I adjure you, ye angels of Satan, who are carrying him into the air, to deceive the hearts of the unbelievers, by the God that created all things, and by Jesus Christ, whom on the...

. The Elders I watched them wilt, I watched them fade, I watched them pass In the evening shade, And now I tread The path they trod, Having walked the walk For seventy odd, And though I know The course is set, The darkness has not Claimed me yet. I...

. Clowns Teach Writing Classes Students’ attitudes were dismal; composition skills, abysmal! Desperate to make things better, teachers asked expert go-getters, “Will you please get their attention? What we need’s an intervention, something new-wave, fresh, progressive— something youth will find impressive!” “We will help you,” they asserted. “HEROES!” weary teachers...

. Valiant Men The sailors brave the angry storm __As waves the ocean brings. It seems to them one hundred years Of fighting death despite their fears, __Like ancient warring kings. The frigid water stings their hands __And chills their sodden skin. But they confront the ghastly howls And fight...

. Science or “The Science”? “‘The Science' and science are opposites.” ---Richard Lindzen So you believe “The Science”? That is odd.Science cannot be about compliance.Scientists are skeptics. They’re not yes men.Belief’s more often used to just oppress men. Reserve belief for the Almighty God.Skepticism doesn’t mean defiance.Science doesn’t punish a transgression.“The Science” always...

. Potina’s Charm In this excerpt from the screen novella, Potina, Lady of the Stag, Potina speaks to Kaptara, the god of the volcano that she approaches. She is an initiate in the mysteries and is a sacrifice. Remember the children in cover, The delicate nature of skin, Remember the...

. Leaves Behind In size and shape and symmetry The leaves upon a maple tree Are like small selfies of the tree itself. And in their veins the leaves display The trunk and branches in a way That equals any etching on my shelf. Whatever in my life is kind...

. A Sleepless Night Lest I should suffer sleeplessly this night Of loathsome loneliness, whose strength severe So weakens me that many a bitter tear Bewails my sweetless, ever souring plight; I call on my subconscious to recite Those dulcet days, that distant yesteryear, To which I would by thought...

. No News Is Good News The world contrives, in many different ways, To overload the minutes of our days __With items that anesthetize __The sensibilities that filter Our sound ideas from the out-of-kilter. __And please try this one on for size: I sat down in my chair to watch...

. Unmasked Musings on the Plea for Pandemic Amnesty upon reading this Atlantic article Today I hear a murmur of surrender--- A shifty whisper from the cutting edge Of vicious tongues (sword-sharp with virtue’s splendor) That cursed the cautious with a poisoned pledge To ruin all who shunned the peddled...

. Repaired Debris drifts down my lacrimosa stream shards discarded when my life exploded. Her cheating ripped apart my every seam left a rubble heap she soon unloaded. Finding all my parts, your love resummed them rebuilt a greater whole, I now can cope. Quelling restive fears, your love benumbed...

. The Return of Trump No matter how you try to stop Don Trump __He always will come back. __He’ll lie in wait then jump __In tiger-like attack. You put him in a box that’s wrapped in chains __And throw him in the sea, __And yet despite your pains __You...

. The Last Man on the Moon for Gene Cernan My gaze was set toward the Western sky, To see if I could see him flashing by, I’d never felt so glad to be alive, With my model of the mighty Saturn five. With “Countdown, engines on you’re good to...

. Henny and Sal by Joseph S. Salemi My father, Salvatore J. Salemi, was a noncommissioned officer in G-2 (Military Intelligence) during the Second World War. Although he was 29 years old in 1942, he was drafted for a specific reason. The American Army knew that an invasion of North...

. Blake's Tyger Tyger Tyger, burning bright, sorry if I'm impolite: What immortal put a hand to verse we'll never understand? Face it, face it, Mister Blake, 'Tyger' was a big mistake. What good reason could there be for rhyming 'eye' with 'symmetry'? Can a poet e'er endure by changing...

. Writing a Poem Our planet moves, and so do we, By forces that we cannot see. Rhyme, meter always seem to track The rhythm of the planet. Lack Of sense or sensibility Inhibits our ability To see. In every fervent verse— Loquacious, moderate, or terse— Rhyme glues meter where...

. Lullaby of New Mexico, Part Two Part One can be read here. Duerme Papi---Dad, it’s time to rest. I smooth your blanket here at Desert Sage And look with worry at your wrinkled face. My calloused hand adjusts your thin-white hair. You fall asleep to one of your CDs---...

. Do Not Return "...forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead." ---Philippians 3:13 Do not return where once you were contented--- It is a trap to seal you in despair; For time moves on, and grieving hearts tormented By pangs of loss...

. No Extra Lives While all his friends were learning skills To gain them wives or pay their bills, John fought with monsters on a screen, Got knighted by a game world’s queen, Amassing troves of digi-treasure That bought eight bits of gaming pleasure. But as the habit lasted longer,...

. Cop27---A Sonnetised Summary upon reading the Cop27 VIP jet dinner menu  A swarm of jets belch fumes that blight the blue As contrails stripe the skies of Sharm el-Sheikh, Where greedy gluttons gorge on beasts that moo--- This feast ensures these gasbags take the cake. Their hot and noxious air is rising high Like...

. Our Superman Porfirio Landa (1925–2022), one of the United States Army’s longest surviving World War II veterans The modest glory of this veteran Began when he was born a Mexican, Baptized before the State declared grim war On Catholic faith Cristeros battled for. Church doors were locked next time...

. Mother Nature Is Bipolar Mother Nature is bipolar. She needs to take a pill. One minute she's a blowhard. The next one she is still. I've seen her hail in April. I've seen her snow in May. I've seen her sun in treetops, Before blowing them away. When she...

. The Cricket These mornings there’s a cricket cross the way Whose chirrup purls and eddies in the air, Autumnal now and cool, to counterpoint The city’s muffled thrum as well anoint The drowsy traipsing of my early prayer. A cricket on the hearth is luck, it’s said, And though...

. Lest We Forget     Today’s the day I cast my hard-won vote   (My voice and choice, my prized ancestral gift)   Bought with guts and grit to stop the bloat  Of greedy grifters known to scheme and shift  Their stance to fit the wants of those they ply  With charm that cloaks their freedom-stealing lie.     Today’s the day I nod to hosts of ghosts  Who paid for liberty...

. Hell Rising They’ve come with a purpose: to numb or perturb us __By infecting the already-sick, And with them they bring a more tangible thing: __A nice carrot along with a stick. They live in The Palace of Envy and Malice __And demand that we pay our “fair share”;...

. Who's Behind the Door The quiet words, the trembling lips, __we’ve heard it all before. Keen questions dwell within our minds, __like who’s behind the door. We saw the lights, heard voiceless words, __asked, “Is there any more?” The speaking’s frail and actions flail, __but who’s behind the door?...

. Autumn Trail Dreamy glimpses of a world recalled and yet to come: The Stagecoach Trail declines and wends through thickets under trees, Illumined red and gold beneath November’s slanting sun And rustling in the mesh, Alaska’s first exploring breeze. The season waits uneasily with vigilance its due, The first...