Prophetic Rendezvous

Prophetic Rendezvous

          Prophetic Rendezvous Choose not to have God’s voice.  A dream is not Enough.  He sometimes offers visions framed In many-meaninged syllables, each fraught With danger.  Scriptures must remain untamed Or boredom fills us.  Bow to human need. Leave behind you...

With the Blessing of Patriarch Kirill

    With the Blessing of Patriarch Kirill Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem Sounds strike together.  Sirens send their screams To shrill their way beside, around and through The mothers and their children...

The Final Solution

                        The Final Solution Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  “the tiniest of hearts” ~Lorca, “Preludio” “All beings possess egos and therefore all beings have personalities. The cosmos...

Meaningless in French Restaurants

Meaningless in French Restaurants With grace in every part the snail moves, fast Like all perfections, fast in nature, form And beauty.  Snails do not want meanings vast And mystical.  The snail is not a warm Enlightenment from Zen, sparrows picked By Christ for...

Cobalt and Amber:  Prometheus

Cobalt and Amber:  Prometheus Daydreaming Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem If I could shape the first man, I would make Him cobalt blue,  his eyes a Viking blue, His nose a righteous Grecian one to shake...

The Soprano and the Incarcerated Singing

The Soprano and the Incarcerated Singing A woman sings soprano and she goes To visit men in prison.  She instructs How they should give the bass line and transpose Distress with voices.  Her voice conducts Them how to deal with Dido’s sorrow near The pyre and waves...

Elementary Love

                    Elementary Love He didn’t notice that the yard in front Was small.  At ten he thought that it was big, Or large enough.  The two of them could hunt A hiding place beneath the Turk’s Caps, dig For doodle bugs, and daydream play.  Both he And Brian...

The Two Domes on the Gurdwara

The Two Domes on the Gurdwara Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem The dome of gold is higher than the white One.  Both are perfect.  “Innocence,” says one, “Is perfect, flawless, like a rigid rite.” Yet...

Edinburgh Eden

       Edinburgh Eden The day lily blooms, But bluebells long ago, how, How to forget them? ~ Phillip Whidden Day lilies bloom, but bluebells long ago Are what the man relives.  The lilies die The same day that they open.  Petals grow Their orangeness, their...

White Petals and Yellow Pollen

  White Petals and Yellow Pollen Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem This, then, the open face we wish that we Could see throughout the universe, the pure, The innocence are utter.  We would see These...

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...

Mercy Tempts, Too Late

   Mercy Tempts, Too Late Redemption of a tragedy by facts Is not enough.  To gather them and write Them out slinks, paltry.  Call up pulsing acts But they are lost if they are in the plight Of scholarship.  Recording them is not Enough.  To put them in the rites of...

Who Cares about Mere Language?

Who Cares about Mere Language? “Every word was once a poem.”  ~  Ralph Waldo Emerson in “The Poet.” Greek graffitos put the letter V and the letter M on walls during Greece’s occupation by Nazis.  V = Vinceremo (we will win).  M = Mussolini Merde.  Any graffitos...

Why White is White

     Why White is White Confusingly (?) the explanation why (In phyics) white is white is that the hue Includes all colors; and another high, Bright commonsense thought is . . . white tends to skew Away, proclaiming white’s the absence of All colors.  Prisms break up...

Costumed Judgment

      Costumed Judgment Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem The royalty and myths and heroes of Those eras far removed in masked up time Produced the primal tragedies.  The love In them, the hate, and...

A Gay Ole Time in Daisy-Circle Hell

A Gay Ole Time in Daisy-Circle Hell “Why does your vision linger there below Among those lost and mutilated shades?” He asked.  I stared at him.  Was he so slow? “It’s obvious.  None living in the glades Of heaven or in Purgatory now Is nearly so...

The Truth Exposed

     The Truth Exposed Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem “…in Swedenborg’s Heaven and Hell, §178; after he has described the garments of the angels, some of which glow with flame, some of which...

Charles Randall Stanfield from a Bergamot Tree

  Charles Randall Stanfield from a Bergamot Tree Today I thought of him.  I poured a cup Of English tea and, as I poured, my mind Did that strange thing that brains will do — filled up With something unexpected.  Life aligned With beauty not related to the tea, Its...

The Luna Moth, the Poet, and Philosopher

The Luna Moth, the Poet, and Philosopher “Carlotta Capuccino [in her article], ‘Plato’s Ion and the Ethics of Praise,’ takes the . . . view that poetry deploys ‘groundless praise’ and ‘promotes a dogmatic and passive style of life and thought,’ and so is ‘essentially...

Dido and Aeneas

             Dido and Aeneas The Queen of Carthage sings that “he is gone” In white-smoke pain.  Purcell gives smoke-white tongue To those who lose their men.  She acts as pawn; He swells her aching throat and tortured lung With passions of the flames that fill her,...

True Love

             True Love                 For Charles Randall Stanfield   “I can never feel certain of any truth but from a clear perception of its Beauty.” ~ John Keats True love is the appreciation of True beauty like a perfect idea, Ideals transparent as jewels above...

Near Enough

Near Enough He’s almost beautiful, his shoulders big Enough, but not remarkable, his nose A handsome size, his hair thick as a wig Some balding man might buy, and in repose His face is solemn, not some pretty thing. The upper eyelids are as dark in tone As if...