Ever Sere Depression:  Blank Eyes, Lips, Ears

Ever Sere Depression:  Blank Eyes, Lips, Ears

Ever Sere Depression:  Blank Eyes, Lips, Ears Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  The place is dark.  Its tenses, all, are stark. Its tense today is black as ebony As God imagined it before His spark...

Melancholia

                   Melancholia Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  The dreams reach out as branches from the trunk And try to scratch the brain from far inside. More bark-clamped than a deep-celled troubled...

Classic Roman Marble Walls are Not Poetry.  Monet Water Lilies Framed upon Them Are Not Poetry.  Poetry is Made to Spill.  Soul is Never Still. and  Art May Be Degraded But Is Not Defeated or Transient:  paired sonnets

Classic Roman Marble Walls are Not Poetry.  Monet Water Lilies Framed upon Them Are Not Poetry.  Poetry is Made to Spill.  Soul is Never Still. and  Art May Be Degraded But Is Not Defeated or Transient:  paired sonnets Modern poetry modern verse contemporary...

New Orleans Drinking Whiskey Neat

New Orleans Drinking Whiskey Neat   that which halts itself                                                                                              dreams. ~ Lorca, “Running” (“Corriente”) A sonnet lends a pause.  It brings a halt To Tuesday stuff.  It enters...

The Ideal Refuses

                 The Ideal Refuses Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  Greeks never showed the Amazon with one Breast chopped away in marble.  Beauty’s shape Flowed lacking flaws.  Greek teachings all...

Can Freedom Be a Creed?

       Can Freedom Be a Creed? So…never mind twinned paradox (yet not Just two-word oxymoron).  “Freedom ruled,” Is what the English peasant poet taught. This writer did not need his knowledge schooled. John Clare, he should have been called Clear. ...

Intelligent Music and the Unforeseen Chord

Intelligent Music and the Unforeseen Chord The height of music comes to hearts refined. The strength of it is how it cannot be Predicted.  Next accords to reach the mind Are guessed but then comes serendipity. A harmony the soul desires becomes A better beauty. ...

Haiku Paradox

       Haiku Paradox The Korean boat does Not pause.  Sails cause it to pass, But where in this haze? ~ Buson Forking into mist A stream on the moor is vague And clear, both, at once. ~ Shirao An odd boat, foreign in its shape, slips past, Korean in its shape and...

Tight Before Release

         Tight before Release The bowstring waits to twang.  The tension raves Against the fingers.  Then the arrow zings As deeply as it can.  The target braves The penetration.  Tautest Imai strings Await the plucking of a classical Refinement.  They desire release...

Past Joy Everything Else is Death

Past Joy Everything Else is Death Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem “Le petite mort” You probe for joy, and probe for joy, then probe Again, again — more deeply.  Joy is there. You know that long...

No Separate Peace

          No Separate Peace “. . . it should have been true. So I didn’t argue.” ~ John Knowles, A Separate Peace When we have finished all the passion, sweat, And dripping body fluids; when we reach The pounded climax to that final threat That comes with deep...

Spewing in the Depths to Heights, Rule-breaking

Spewing in the Depths to Heights, Rule-breaking Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem When I go into you, I know what he Felt up in heaven, Lucifer, in love With liberty, or more love’s anarchy. I know...

Priming Your Pump at the Well

Priming Your Pump at the Well Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem Just one slight push and he slips into you. Unspoken is this love, for who needs love In words when there is love to spew? You want a...

Waking Up Still Alive in a Pastel Gas Chamber

Waking Up Still Alive in a Pastel Gas Chamber The melancholy of a lifetime hums, Hums silence into sadness, though a mild Kind, in the velvet sunset which becomes The sum of all the wounds your beds compiled. The noon intensifies the wounding if The melancholy lingers...

Aloof

                    Aloof Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem A solitary tongue of cloud comes out From cave depths in a mountain, mist from dark Abyss.  The moisture whitely sniffs about. It tries to...

But Perhaps Keats Understood It at His Best

But Perhaps Keats Understood It at His Best Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem “The Pure Present which so often aroused Goethe’s admiration in every product of the classical life and in sculpture...

What Matters

                   What Matters Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem Orgasm by ahermin on DeviantArt He said he loved.  (At least that’s what she thought.) So much was going on inside her head That maybe...

Physics and Metaphysics Clean Water and Black Hole Scars

          Physics and Metaphysics   Clean Water and Black Hole Scars            Shizukasa wa kuri no ha shizumu shimizu kana The quietness; A chestnut leaf sinks Through the clear water. ~Shōhaku The simple, clear, transparent, and the pure Are summed up in the...

“Orpheus with his lute made trees”

“Orpheus with his lute made trees” Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem For Philippe Entremont What use is music lacking fingers, strings, And tremolo, the purity of voice Of flute in Grieg’s concerto,...

Ars Poetica

             Ars Poetica Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse “The word ‘classic’ itself . . . derives from the Latin word classicus which referred to recruits of the ‘first class’, the heavy infantry in the Roman army.  The...

Ars Sonnetica

                 Ars Sonnetica Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse...

Treasures from the Wreck of the Unrecoverable

Treasures from the Wreck     of the Unrecoverable Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse “Athenaeus quotes more than ten thousand lines of verse in it, many not preserved or attested elsewhere.” ~ Michael Schmidt, The First Poets Ten...

Ars Sonnetica

                Ars Sonnetica Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem...

Heart Trouble

           Heart Trouble Where does music come from?  Does it come from Heart wounds?  No.  Music is at first derived From minds.  It offers mathematics’ thrum For ears.  At Eton teenage Parry thrived On music and on sport in spite of heart Disease becoming palpable. ...

Once was Evil Enough

  Once was Evil Enough The ancient tragedies of Athens played Upon that stage just once and then were rolled Around themselves in paper. They had made Impressions strong enough and so were scrolled Up, waiting … silently … for who knows what? For paper...

Ars Poetica

          Ars Poetica “The word ‘classic’ itself . . . derives from the Latin word classicus which referred to recruits of the ‘first class’, the heavy infantry in the Roman army. The ‘classical’, then, is ‘first class’, though it is no longer heavily armoured.” ~...

Surging

                Surging If planets spun before it entered you, They faltered, staggered as I thrust inside And upwards.  If the oceans once were blue, They changed to blood with foaming lust.  The stride Of hardened flesh in yielding slickness changed The universe to...

Michael Curtis of AEGEA

  Michael Curtis of AEGEA ….. He wants to have the purest, clearest tongue, The crystal tongue that earliest of throats Employed.  He wants to sing with voice so young That only sail-like vowels will move in boats On springs arising out of moveless rocks In...

Pubescent Vector

   …..                 Pubescent Vector Tom’s shoulders—knots of boyishness—were tied By Jahweh when in Baden-Powell mood But move in that white shirt where they must hide (Required by dress-code rule, to make Tom good), So they remain as veiled, as chaste, and...

Climate, Strange

Climate, Strange Can you remember when the daffodils Meant spring was on the way?  Each yellow drift Beside the bank or just beneath the hill’s Slope gave the eye and soul a gold bright lift. That doesn’t happen now.  We remember How promise of revival made us new...

He’s Out of Place Here

He’s Out of Place Here He’s out of place here, looks like he’s a fan Of Manchester United, one who stands Among the other scarf-draped blokes.  A man With snub nose, eyebrows thick like black iron bands Is reading here.  A sloping forehead, small...