Coral Griefs

Coral Griefs

Coral Griefs “The Sea on Fire”: Jean Barraqué Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem If mermaids basked on beaches, then their hair Would be of swaying sea grass, whether blonde Or red, and combed with coral...

Awe of the Heavenly Bodies

       Awe of the Heavenly Bodies Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  The moon would kill to have a face the shape And beauty that yours shows, the smoothness, force, The splendor of your dazzle with escape...

Not Just Stars

  Not Just Stars Your eyes glow, not just stars , more moon and sun.        The stars and sun are more than fire, the moon Of water made.  Its frozen waves are one With ever meltingness and change too soon Yet they are overarched by solar heat And North Star fixity. ...

Lack

             I think that we will live apart as trees Must live, not even in two woodlands near Each other.  Maybe some stray autumn breeze Will carry messages from sphere to sphere And I will try to feel that roots and roots Will almost touch — but dreams are only...

Rather

                            Rather   Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  Imagine that I wrote five trillion times In Latin, or in Sanskrit, or in Greek Of Sappho, or in Shakespeare’s sonnet rhymes, In...

Sanctity in the Dawn

          Sanctity in the Dawn I wake up in the first light, launched to love. I wake up fraught as if the Holy Ghost Filled both my lungs and hovered just above Each vein and artery and bone, engrossed Me everywhere inside my soul.  Of course It is not God who rams...

An Empty Road

                     An Empty Road An empty road is more expressive than An interstate or crowded motorway With traffic.  Lack of woman and of man Along the vacant stretch, not downtown splay Of Fords and buses, trucks and such upon An asphalt street, invites the...

  Olé Picasso!

  Picasso! Don’t look at nature after art to slight The art.  The point of art is not to ape But thinking.  Artists target to incite, Not prettify, but cause the mind to gape. To criticize a painting for a lack Of slavishness to facts is silliness Akin to faulting...

Laius and Jocasta, Medea, etc.

Laius and Jocasta, Medea, etc. Simone de Beauvoir speaks of passion “born from love to murder love.”  Does she mean women (or their men) who want Abortions after passion (or just sex Or lust)?   Does she mean women born to haunt The cosmos with those listless babies,...

Abelard and Heloïse Illuminated

               Abelard and Heloïse Illuminated When Abelard was my age, he was dead. I think he would have lived eternally If he had known he’d be stiff as French bread Flutes, as sticks of it dressed infernally, When painted in the Roman de la Rose In red and orange...

Crepe Myrtle Armory

  Crepe Myrtle Armory A pink of seriousness, of solemn frills, Is roasting in the tropic sun.  A breeze From hottest sultriness and languor spills Across the flowers and leaves.  They are at ease Though.  This is what God made them for and so They flourish in their...

Providence

          Providence In literature the darkest deeds of men Required the sanction of the gods. God called The patriarch to kill his son, so then He took him to the altar, not appalled The least bit. David was ordained to kill The giant, pulp his brain and cut his head...

Suffocated Devotions

…..Suffocated Devotions ……….“the fame of his lost love” Who cares about the love of Yazid choked Forever in that clogging of the throat, About Antinous, whose death is cloaked In rumors and suspicions as they float Above the marble whiteness of...