Poetry

  It's easier to not exist And yet existence does persist. Although I cannot fathom why, I cannot rest unless I try. To wonder why or how or when, Such is the way it's always been. As we orbit upon this ball, It seems odd to exist at all.  ...

  An old friend called on me today, past indiscretions to relive. Long decades passed since we had spoke; he hoped ill feelings I'd forgive. We had once been the best of friends but problems came as years flew by; we had gone our own separate ways--- a friendship left...

  Coming Home “Thank you for letting me come home,” she said To me the night she died, and I, tongue-tied, I could not answer her. I should have tried, I know, for tacitly her thoughts I read: “I shall not see the dawn, nor shall I tread This earth...

  Lockdown Leisure with apologies to W.H. Davies In lockdown life, should I but dare To take more time to stand and stare?--- More time to stand six feet away And gaze upon our world today: More time to gasp (while in a mask) At questions news show hosts don’t...

Your Smart Device a rondeau Your smart device was strange and new; It learned your voice and habits too; It played the songs you liked to hear; It answered your requests with cheer, And spat out facts without ado. You didn’t know what would ensue: You need it now and...

by Adam Sedia John Dryden In 1688, John Dryden, England’s first official poet laureate, was deprived of that title for remaining Catholic and replaced with the laughably inferior Thomas Shadwell. Dryden and Shadwell had long been rivals, exchanging literary attacks on each other. Dryden surely won that battle when he...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=21&v=kRrLsMIaDcM      

The Crowd by Christian J. Weaver The corpses of my former selves Are yawning in the waves. They bob and float like slimy logs; Their fish-expressions gaze With mute surprise at all the rest: It's crowded nowadays!       Christian J. Weaver, who is currently incarcerated, has been writing...

The King Lying lips win praise and fame, And money, pow’r and wealth; They grant great glory for your name But cost the price of self. For once a man betrays his plans To be upright and true, That blackening corruption finds A crack to slither through. And every further...

  Editor’s Note: This poem was originally found in The Pebbles and Shells: A Book of Verses ,1909, edited by Donald Fraser. Another version was published in The Good Humor Book, by Robert Rango, 1944. Edited by Beverly Stock Said little Johnnie to the Owl; “I’ve heard you’re wondrously wise,...

  Good François Villon, petty thief, Carouser, cutpurse, scholar, sot; Young chronicler of gallows-grief, Escapee from the hempen knot; Depicter of the dregs and lees Of drunken students, louts, and sinners; Of beggars, pimps, and hostelries, Of men-at-arms, and roast fish dinners; We need you here and now, Villon, To...

  Armageddon a tennos on the current socio-political situation by C.B. Anderson Some of my former friends are now definitively leftist; The most intelligent among them are the very deftest At shading and manipulating history's plain truth To bring about a darker world where only claw and tooth Have any...

  The Strength Within A tribute to Sir Ranulph Fiennes and Dr. Mike Stroud who, in 1993, became the first men to cross the continent of Antarctica unsupported. The crossing took 93 days. They stood like ants upon a drum, the whiteness so intense; The task before them magnified the...

  La Ville Lumière—City of Lights, of Dreams, __Of Love: La Ville d’Amour. Whose night is day— __Whose stars are mirrored in the sky which streams __Them back again—La Seine: the Milky Way. La Tour Eiffel, la Louvre, et Notre-Dame, __A strand of diamonds strung along the quai __Like Left...

  Caiaphas To the Bishop of Lafayette in Indiana in defense of Father Rothrock High Priest of Israel’s nameless God __You were, and though came to possess That charge upon the gentiles’ nod, __It made you Aaron’s heir no less. High Priest, upon that fateful night __You sat at the...

A Case of Ghosts (Full Fathom Five parodied) In cradling case my fiddle lies, Waiting for the owner’s hand. Strings all slack, its music dies. Yet a not-quite-silent band There conspires to haunt my heart— Wonder of the maker’s art. Ghosts rise. From within they knock. Hark! Now I hear...

  Summer in Texas She sashays in on scorching licks of flame that singe the sticky fringes of the day. Her blaze, no brazen breeze can ease or tame; she sizzles as she splashes rays our way. Her sultry haze and scintillating gaze immerse the plains in waves of liquid...

Fallen Leaves You can't stop leaves from falling in the autumn of their lives, And you can't stop bees returning to the safety of their hives, And you cannot stop deception as it flows from your T.V., Or the garbage mainstream media spews out incessantly. You can't help the reporter...

The American Revolution: An Epic Poem Chapter I by Andrew Benson Brown   Chapter II: Thomas Jefferson in Hell On July Fourth of Eighteen Twenty-Six, Old Thomas Jefferson was sent to Hell In his pajamas. At the river Styx He idled, slippers soggy from the swell Of wrathful souls abounding...

  All Gone Listening to William Billings' "Chester" I cannot help but weep to sing these words, and by them, lodge my soul with those who sang them many years ago. From their hearts rang both faith and freedom, backed with lives and swords, who fought and lived as one...

The winning haiku can be found here Write a haiku on any topic 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). It must... 1. Be three lines. The first...

  “Come one, come all, it´s time to ride The carousel of fools! It’s free, it’s fun, just step inside, Get on---there are no rules!” So spoke the barker at the tent To crowds that passed him by; “I´m broke,” I said, “without a cent; I´ll give this ride a...

  Summer Concerts The katydids and stridulant cicadas Regale us with their aestival sonatas. At night, surrounded by the song of crickets, We listen just as though we'd paid for tickets. first published in The Lyric     In Praise of Delay Already it is June, And shrubs that flower...

Viral Hair Care After four months untrimmed, my coiffure was ovoid, Well in tune with Aquarian couture. I was starting to look just like Christopher Lloyd In the old movie, “Back to the Future.” With “The Virus” at large, being kept safe and sound Led to more than a few...

  1. Poetry or prose? No one knows. 2. Shan’t waffle, 'tis awful. 3. Shan’t coddle, 'tis twaddle. 4. I can't say it faster: it's an utter disaster. 5. By smidgen or headful it's really quite dreadful. 6. Said firstly or lastly, it's slapdash and ghastly. 7. It's florid and...

  See the St Louis The St Louis sailed from Hamburg in May, 1939. The 938 passengers were refused entry by Cuba’s president, Federico Bru, and by the USA and had to return to Europe, where most ended up in Nazi hands. In Bamberg, in 1628, a chain-reaction witch hunt...

  Back to Normal An Appeal to Pastors I hear it in my conversations and in webinars and on the web: "How long before we’re back to normal? We can’t stand much more of this. It seems so very wrong, not being able to assemble or to worship freely. How...

  Honest to God? after Ecclesiastes 5 Watch carefully your step when you draw near to God. Fools play at worship, coming to Him to be seen and heard, more than to hear. They tip their hats to God, and think they do Him some great service; but their sacrifice,...

  Secret Sorrows in memory of Mr. Sushant Singh Rajput, an Indian actor and youth icon who passed away on 14th of June, 2020 Some secret sorrows come and throng ____the streets of mirth; They dance and hum a mournful song ____around the hearth. They lead us by the hand...

  The seasons came and passed again Since last I heard your voice; Many are the ways I'd change If death but gave a choice. I'd pick you flowers in the spring To show you that I care And when you needed comforting You'd always find me there. The summer...

  I’ll Have My Say… by Susan Jarvis Bryant Don’t spit your ire upon my name. Don’t tell me that my view’s insane--- to sink down on one knee in shame. I won’t claim blame. I won’t claim blame. Don’t raze my city to the ground. Don’t force me not...

  Averted, staring past my busy day, I watched my feeding station for the birds, Was startled by a darkness come my way, Presenting me a greeting without words. It landed ten feet from my window sill, Unfurling wings that wide and velvet-black. This close it looked intense, as if...

  In triumph the Archangel stands atop __The medieval fortress church and isle __That bear his name—the legendary spot __Where Satan fell to Michael’s strength and guile. “Impossible,” was Saint Aubert’s reply __When Michael thrice commanded him to build __A church. But, in the end, he did comply, __And Michael’s...

  Samson’s Revenge a translation of Judges 15:16 With but an ass’s jawbone Asses I have made of them, The myriads, the masses. I have slaughtered heaps of men: Killed them, I alone, And with a Jawbone, yes, an ass’s!   A Youthful Poet an autobiographical sketch A youthful poet,...

It Matters Not On Sunday, June 21st, three men were stabbed to death while sitting in Forbury Park in Reading, England. by Susan Jarvis Bryant On Sunday in a leafy English park, A knife slashed in the gleam of evening fun, Till emerald sprawls of lawn were stained and dark...

  Olympus Olympus, thou majestic crag, whose bright And jagged spire, aloft the dazzling air Only the winds and snows and eagles dare To brush with crystal tip or feather light Arise from thy dull slumber! Hurl thy might Down upon earth with old old power! Prepare The thunderbolt of...

Poet's Note: The Apology of Socrates is Plato’s account of Socrates’ defense of himself in a court of law. The present work is a poetic interpretation of Plato’s account. I would like to thank my friend Dr. William Engels for his constructive criticism and helpful editorial suggestions.   Part 1:...

  The Boncompagni Dragon The Boncompagni Dragon, by Bartolomeo Passerotti (1529-92). Pen with brown ink, over black chalk. Tobey Collection of Renaissance Drawings, Metropolitan Museum of Art A gorgon’s head on a swanlike neck, furred with a middle-aged mane, the ears two mismatched scimitars like a hedge about the brain....

. Juneteenth---the Day After by Joe Tessitore Witness the collapse And see the dust clouds rise. Hear the sound of taps And feel the shroud of lies. Hear the harpies laugh And as the willow cries, Read the epitaph--- It comes as no surprise. Will you take the knee? I...

Twisted Reckoning If pain can produce beauty, and if beauty causes pain, then how can I be reconciled to more loss than I gain? If love is also longing, and if love is loss refined, how can I move ahead and mourn when love has been unkind? I look afar...