The Pink of Gentle Hermione and White of John Paul II

The Pink of Gentle Hermione and White of John Paul II

The Pink of Gentle Hermione and White of John Paul II Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem                                      The lodger pauses, as he leaves, to gaze At blossoms in the border at the front —...

Creature of Compassion

Creature of Compassion Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem    Although in worlds outside of Asia some Might think that pink and green are linked to love Of softness, few think dragons might succumb To...

The Female Pheasant’s Handsome Lover

The Female Pheasant’s Handsome Lover Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  The Noh fan opens out upon the stage. The female pheasant’s lover is the point. Her attitude to beauty makes her sage: When males are...

Notre Dame’s Acoustics Taken Up with Enoch

Notre Dame’s Acoustics Taken Up with Enoch The polyphonic music of the time When lords and ladies and archbishops ruled, Rose made of notes and lines that as they climb Evaporate.  The melodies were cooled, It seems, to nothingness at last, though lower notes Would...

Trinity’s Anchorite in Gentle Agony

   Trinity’s Anchorite in Gentle Agony James Strachey, lacking goldsmiths’ stunning hair, Sat by his non-gold fire alone inside His Cambridge room and felt the flare Of shrined romance within his ribs.  It dyed His arteries and veins the color of A soul in...

A Hovering Sexual Position

              A Hovering Sexual Position Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem The poet, Rupert Brooke, felt trouble with Deciding what his sex position was. He listened to his gay friends’ favorite myth...

The Minx and Sacrifice

             The Minx and Sacrifice The reason Marilyn appealed to both The men and women was because she meant A dual thing and not just beauty.  Too loath To say that, though, they melted to her scent Composed of victimhood and vampishness. They, deep gods, or...

Supreme Longshot(s)

     Supreme L-o-n-g-s-h-o-t-(s) The Father reigns supreme in every way. It’s all a bit uncertain if the Son Came later and is lesser (this sounds gay) But still divine.  And then the other One Is even more ambiguous.  We know This biblically,...

The Month of Dying Beauty

  The Month of Dying Beauty The month of dying beauty made of leaves That bleed with scarlet, crimson, and the flash Of orange, hurtful yellows and bright sheaves Of golden, sickled hay revealed a gash. A wound in present time was opened by My finding of a cache of...

Perfect Paradoxes, October’s Oxymorons

Perfect Paradoxes, October’s Oxymorons The point of fall is melancholy joy. The oranges, yellows, and the reds are breaths Of autumn but in parallel destroy. Their bright solemnity a trillion deaths Entails.  The oranges are calmly rife With gorgeouness of gloom. ...

Forget About Your Duties, Journalists

Forget About Your Duties, Journalists Not everything must be about the spiked Coronavirus.  Tell the media And they would laugh.  You see that they are dyked Up, blocked bowels.  Encyclopedia Materials imply ten thousand things That could be focused on instead, but,...

Diversity Does Not Equal Ontological Division

Diversity Does Not Equal Ontological Division Since all are different, they are all the same. If there were some exceptions to this rule, Just two would do, then these two sames would shame The thoughts of Monism.  This ridicule By sameness would destroy the doctrine,...

Viral Riddance

              Viral Riddance Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem Who says that emptiness is wrong?  Not those Who hate humanity, the women, men, And screaming brats.  Di Chirico may pose The eeriness of...

“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,...

Astonishments

             Astonishments You don’t want just astonishments.  They bore You, not at first, but thrills of newness nag Away until in later years the gore Of slashing at the lovely starts to drag Your feelings down and then at last you wish For something...

Metaphysical Meteorology

 Metaphysical Meteorology The dead surround us like a Northern Lights Display above blue waters, seas as blue As Patroclus’s eyes in tented nights Beside Achilles making love as new And strong as sapphire blades, above the green Of greenest waters, greener than the...

Piéria

                 Piéria Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem “the Muses’ ancient home between the roots of Olympus and the sea; to where ‘Pēneus rolls his fountains Against the morning star’.” ~ F. L....

No One

                       No One When you are dead, the violets will bloom In quiet purple or in white. The years Will pass, will pass to centuries, and winters loom With blossomed frost on window panes. The spheres Above this world will spin and sweep until Eternity...

The Degradation of the Divine

  The Degradation of the Divine The gods have been reduced to ploys for ads, Cartoonish movies, and perfume campaigns For goddess-like attraction, and for fads Like PS4-ish war games. Gods’ remains Are just commercial or for trivial Stupidities.  The great gods...

Northeastern Regions

          Northeastern Regions In parts of Europe where no lights had burned In people’s minds, dark ages (when they came) Brought nothing new.  No Ovid there had churned Out verses made of sun and sex.  His flame Of silliness and peccadilos had No sway in huts...

Hair Penetrating Hair

    Hair Penetrating Hair Why men grow strands in noses is beyond Me, frightfully unsightly as it is. I can’t imagine anyone who’s fond Of ugliness like that.  I mean, Gee Whiz, It’s sexy as a witch’s withered tit And yet the ones who fancy men must put Up with the...

Erde und Himmel: a Sonnet

                              Erde und  Himmel:  a Sonnet The picture on the page (this photo in the ad) was not of you.  It looked like you, though.  Can it be that something quite so thin and boring as casually leafing through an in-flight magazine might bring this...