Poetry

. When softly my sustaining comfort stirs Herself to offer solace coveted, Advancing toward the left side of my bed With that sweet courtly reasoning of hers, In fearful homage all my being murmurs, “O happy soul, from what sphere do you come?” __A little frond of palm, and some...

. Rondeau The rondeau echoes its refrain in a subtle way, just as rain at times will fall, not in torrents, but in a fine mist, the wood fence, weathered gray, resisting the stain of water. So, the reader’s brain, lulled, may not at first sustain the expectation and suspense...

. Winners announced here. Write a haiku and post it in the comments section below. The haiku must adhere to the traditional parameters of a haiku to qualify and may be deleted if it does not. See traditional haiku requirements here. Note that a haiku is like a a painting of...

. You’re glad you’ve nabbed The Covid jab That’s newly fabbed In some large lab Created by The jaundiced eye, The sneaky, sly, Big corporate guy. The slimy thug, Our taxes sent To make the bug More virulent. He’s in with Xi, Our enemy, And Xi can see Our liberty...

. Guilty, Guilty, Guilty! That most sagacious Mr. K*Told listeners: “Back in the day—‘The Enlightenment,’ they call it; haw,No way! ‘Twas filled with moral flawBeside which our few failings pale.Yes, they’d put people up for sale!Take Washington, the so-called FatherOf Our Country. We should ratherRemember him not as a founderOf...

. A widespread distemper in modern life is the insistent need that many people feel to justify themselves and their activities. Countless persons are defensive about all sorts of things that in the past you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. Suppose you ask somebody how he makes a...

. 23 July 2021 Don't send money.  No food to buy. One scanty meal at work or nothing. Outside the factory today There was a freedom demonstration. The managers brought clubs for us: "Go out and beat a demonstrator. Your job is making Cuba safe." We said, "We will not...

. Rain Song by Klaus Groth (1819-1899) Pour, O rain, pour down to earth, Give my childhood dreams rebirth, When in reverie I roamed Shores where sand with moisture foamed. When the summer sun’s hot rays Idly vied with crisper days, And the pale leaves dripped with dew, And seeds...

. Da Vinci’s lauded “Savior of the World”— Commissioned by the King- Louis of France, * Entombed for years by paint but now unfurled While few respected experts look askance. The work of Leonardo does impress— Effects of soft sfumato on the face Where edges fade and softly evanesce Into...

. ⬙ Judged by Cynthia Erlandson See all entrants here. ⬙ . FIRST PLACE WINNER ($100) . A Slight Deviation from the Canterbury Tales after Chaucer’s Prologue and other poems by Brian Yapko, Sante Fe, New Mexico When that April with his showers sweet Made mud fields out of every...

. While Waiting Through the Night This morning, searching on the laptop, I Found notes I made upon the night she died. All through the darkest hours at her bedside That night I knew she knew her end was nigh. And in the morning light though she would lie There...

. Lucky It stormed around our house last night, The lightning turned the black sky bright. Tornadoes came to join the fray, The morning news led me to pray. Six houses leveled, not too far--- How vulnerable we all are! . . Why We Have Mother’s Day The son while...

. A Little Respect an appeal to activist athletes at the Olympic games You have the right to speak of truth or trash __In houses, restaurants, and streets; To turn the flag of freedom-land to ash, __The flag for which your team competes; And you may spurn your liberty for...

. O Happy Glass Another soul inside a glass deep red— I think on Provenance, effect and cause: Do you begin in wind? In sun, or rain? Inside a seed in bed, or in the grower’s head? In winter when your climbing growth takes pause? In summer when your jewels...

. The Lion Who Thought She Was a Zebra a fable East Africa is where this lion’s tale Takes place---a land of rugged plains of grass, Acacia trees with thorns as sharp as nail, And wild beasts of every shape and class: Giraffes and warthogs, elephants, baboons! Egrets and flamingos...

. They lie in serried ranks above the strand. These mighty, whirling monsters made of steel. Where once, a couple wandered, hand in hand, Not knowing what the future might reveal. The murky sea rolls in from dawn ‘till late, You rarely hear the screeching seabird sound, With drizzle tumbling...

. . They're Here They are the Saintly Source of Good;  __The Keepers of The Truth.  They’re seeking you. You knew they would. Stand up. Speak out. You know you should. They want your eye. They want your tooth. They want your wide-eyed, prideful youth. __They’re cloaked in mask and...

. Kilkenny Castle A moat runs dry revealing secrets buried those conquerors and conquered knights had known. The past, a relic—bits and pieces carried, some seen in present life, some overgrown by history’s décor. And at its core A castle built of wood and later stone. We in the present...

. Making All Things Orderly Stare at grey clapboards in unbroken rows That seem to follow the unceasing sound Of thrumming traffic, with no vibrant red Or swaying leaves to soften sunlight’s blows. Poems of air and chlorophyll’s repose Have gone; the smallest traces can’t be found; Destroyed, as some...

. in reference to an Epoch Times' exposé We’re in the loop, we’re up the sleeve, we’re near the Party’s armpit. As high rank cadres we can’t leave, we know too much, God damn it ! Hard working, in-the-know, we spy in worldwide institutions. Nobody knows more on the sly...

. Heliotrope Phaeton, son of the god Helios, attempted to drive his father’s celestial chariot. His inexperience caused him to burn up part of the earth and the heavens, so he was killed by a thunderbolt from Zeus. The frightened gods all breathed in deep relief (Thunderer, thanks! You’ve saved...

. With How Sad Steps from a Philip Sidney sonnet With how sad steps, O Moon, you climb the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What see you? Humankind’s excessive pace Getting from here to there? We are not wise, Who to alarm clock daily need arise,...

. Nest Egg The things for which I hoped have come and gone: The power to express a cogent thought; Ability to wake at break of dawn; Approval from a nearly perfect wife; And will to execute what I’ve been taught. But this is not to say that all is...

. —like his saddle, hat, and spurs No silver on this cowboy’s working saddle; borne bedrolls, stray calves, and dry canteens, carried beside lame mounts home to the stable, baptized in thunderstorms and mountain streams —horn scarred by years of lariat, grooved deep. The smell of leather, home, a cowboy’s...

by Adam Sedia Contemporary poetry is plagued by several characteristic vices: obscurity, banality, nihilism---each a topic for examination in its own right. But its most glaring and even characteristic vice is an omnipresent solipsism---a narcissistic navel-gazing by which the poet elevates superficial autobiographical detail to the level of a poetic...

. Each view deemed inconvenient is a fake, no matter if deep down you know it’s true. When one lot says a colour’s red, I’ll make a bet with you the other says it’s blue. This double-think duplicity where facts and common sense get pushed aside by hate results in...

. Am I, am I beautiful? Surely my face qualifies: Forehead pearly bright to rise Over sweetest lips cerise. Tell me if I’m beautiful! Cupid’s brows I have, green eyes, Rounded chin, nose small in size, Blonde curls blowing in the breeze; Am I, am I beautiful? Firmness my high...

. https://youtu.be/9VRUjxFxQ2A?list=PLfUp4UiBMcEZC4Hgnr33FpijP5W5mRNo6&t=102 “A star!” the wise man shouted, “Look, a star!” forgetting the hour and his solitude, or else too overjoyed to heed the time— then, starting at the ghostly echo through the tower’s highest chamber, shook with fright and with a jolting hand silenced his lips. Nobody heard him;...

. O Say Can It Be? "How long you been suckin’ up oxygen, friend? For seventy years? Well now that’s gonna end! And moochin’ off Social Security too? The Great People’s Zoo is the next stop for you! You’ll be in their keep, but not for very long, Till they...

. Brimstone I sniff a whiff of brimstone in the tone Of smooth effusions oozing from his tongue. A lick of sulfur clings like stale cologne To slickest syntax eloquently strung Like lustrous pearls to wrap around the throat That swallows every sickening cliché. The polished bleating from a cheating goat Is honed to lead the sweetest sheep astray. I hear his cloven hoof tap to the beat Of hapless hearts all fed the plumpest pledge--- That putrid fruit the...

. A Black-Listed Species The avian community is glad He’s dying out, the mad oölogist. With every species on the British list He always wanted more eggs than he had, And on his checklist those he had to add Were those his greedy eyes could not resist. So sad, this...

. Birds in Flight by David Whippman “Free as a bird,” that's what we always say, "It's time to spread my wings and fly away, I have to find myself, fly high and free!" Birds are the metaphors of liberty. They seem free, for they have the gift of flight,...

. Choose a famous poem and write it in limerick form, putting the title of the original poem at the top. Please fit your chosen poem into one limerick (five lines) only. See "How to Write a Limerick." Post your limerick in the comments section below. See examples: . Nothing...

. The below poem is a memoir of the summer of 2020, to be sung to the tune of “I’ve Been Everywhere,” with apologies to Geoff Mack and Hank Snow. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6JSfp6Az3k . I was standing by a shop along a dark and crowded street When along approached a cop and...

. Dirge for a Dying Diva Who’s alive now who ever heard the voice That once adorned La Scala and The Met, A native of this land where we forget Artists quicker than books or melted ice? The wonder of her lovely lyric highs Survives in one rich memory as...

. This poem is inspired by a column in The Epoch Times written by John Falce, entitled “The Experience of Freedom” The rugged beauty of our land’s terrain Is varied, airy, beautiful, and wide, Reflecting freedom. This, our fruited plain, Is something in which we should all take pride. Americans...

. The Best and Worst of Times “It was the best of times, it was …” but how Can anyone forget those words once pearled By Dickens so very long ago; and now, Do we ourselves not live in such a world? Don’t we have the best of everything: Appliances,...

. She is not a she in the Silver State. Never shall be. In the bones of her heart He will ever be he, unwombed by fate, Crafted by lies, makeup, the surgeon's art... __A petal falls, a stem is cut, a flower __And a bee; weep, no honey sweets...

. From the Bay of Naples To Titus Caesar and the Senate, Hail! Gaius Pliny brings you news most dire From Naples where your frightened people quail; Vesuvius has turned to molten fire! Pompeii is buried. Other towns as well, With countless Romans bloodied, lost or dead. I, across the...

Reviewed Book: Light In the Darkness—The Poetry of Peter Hartley, Dunecrest Press, 2021. by James A. Tweedie Peter Hartley writes poems. Good poems. Poems that sing, dance, and soar with the rhyme and rhythm of formal, classical verse. Poems that open our eyes to see the world in new and...