With the Blessing of Patriarch Kirill

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 Haunt of Manly Dreams

       The Haunt of Manly Dreams Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  A tingling in his skin with hairs makes nubs Rise up.  They pop up from connections to His heart, nerve wires.  His left-hand searches,...

The Flimsiness of Letters

     The Flimsiness of Letters   “All the little emptiness of love!” ~ Rupert Brooke   What kind of letters?  Letters in a clay Configuration, cuneiform shapes gone For thousands of declines in their array In sunsets, twilights and each hopeless dawn Were letters that...

  Tahitian Light and Dark

     Tahitian Light and Dark They called him “Purpure” because his hair Shone light instead of black like theirs.  It shone Of poetry, perhaps, or maybe flair Of charm. Their combination might atone For many sins and signally his spell Translated clearly in their...

Into Deep Water

     Into    Deep      Water Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem In front of Brooke’s veranda stood a dock. This wooden altar offered diving height To deep blue water.  He could interlock With beauty,...

White Orthodox Cathedral and Extreme Holiness

White Orthodox Cathedral and Extreme Holiness Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem A veil of little limbs obscures the curve Of daylight blue and stars of gold against The truest color of the sky.  The...

There’s Lucky and There’s Lucky

          There’s Lucky and There’s Lucky A girl with eyes involved with awe, and stroll Of goddesses, and heart that angels knew Who sang with Gabriel, would have a soul To offer to a poet.  She might view Him as a blond and blue-eyed rhyming knight Descended from...

“Mythical Land of the Ever Young”

“Mythical Land of the Ever Young” Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem “I can’t help feeling that he has been smothered and castrated, and there he is, quite different, and...

Wince

                              Wince “Hynes succeeds in reducing Brooke to two pitying, scathing lines: ‘Poor Brooke: it is his destiny to live as a      supremely poetical figure, shirt open and hair too long and profile perfect – a figure that appeals to that...

Wider Still and Wider from the Earth

Wider Still and Wider from the Earth “And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish.” ~ Rupert Brooke The fancies of that young one, Rupert Brooke, Were wider than “just” girls and women.  He Liked those—and more.  The autumn hair that...

Tropical Heat Meets English Poetry

Tropical Heat Meets English Poetry Together Taatamata and taut Brooke Spread open her vanilla orchid flower. While it was tropic pink, not white, it took His darker flesh invasion and its power. Its power spread open her Tahiti flesh And spread it, thrust it fleshy,...

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...

Too Very Possible to Understand

Too Very Possible to Understand “Born the second of three sons, Brooke was a deep disappointment to his mother, who had wished for a daughter. Brooke brooded over his mother’s sense of loss and the constant remarks of strangers on his skin that was ‘clear as a...

There’s Poetry and Then There’s Poetry

There’s Poetry and Then There’s Poetry “There are three good things in this world. One is to read poetry, another is to write poetry, and the best of all is to live poetry.” ~ Rupert Brooke. The schoolboy grown to be a poet found Intensest poetry inside the holes Of...

There’s Lucky and There’s Lucky

   There’s Lucky and There’s Lucky Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem A girl with eyes involved with awe, and stroll Of goddesses, and heart that angels knew Who sang with Gabriel, would have a soul To...

The War Poet

        The War Poet “a rich nature … fighting eagerly towards the truth.”   “I have a rendezvous with death At some disputed barricade” ~ Alan Seeger Alan Seeger Not all war poets are the same as Brooke. Not all are like a cabinet display Of Royal Worcester...

The Genius of Love and the Jock

   The Genius of Love and the Jock Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem Of course it doesn’t matter that we don’t Know just how beautiful Lascelles was:  he Was not a poet.  Rupert Brooke was wont To think...

Taatamata and Denham Russell-Smith

Taatamata and Denham Russell-Smith The evidence, it seems, implies that stuff With women caused him greatest grief, except For Taatamata.  Mother was enough To force him to desire control.  She kept Him on the tightest lead as best she might And love for Ka produced a...

Stranger and Not Stranger

                Stranger and Not Stranger “Youth is stranger than fiction.” ~ Rupert Brooke The two re-met two nights.  Young Brooke was known To be opposed to what they were about To do.  The other had been nursing overblown Emotions for the poet, years.  A stout...

Squares and Triangles

     Squares and Triangles “male society, cloistered rooms, and the works of the classics” ~ Jacob’s Room, Virginia Woolfe A cloistered room can be concocted in An ordinary bedsit.  Cambridge rooms Are not required. You sit and rest your chin On loneliness.  Love’s...

So What?

                So What? “a Rugby athlete” “There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.” ~ Oscar Wilde If we reduce the man to what he was On Rugby playing fields, back when a lad Who might have...

Rupert Wanted Surrender

        Rupert Wanted Surrender                 “Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate.                   Love sells the proud heart’s citadel to fate.”~ Rupert Brooke Would women be as likely as a man To write such sentiments, to think of love As breaching...

Poetry Saved by Photographs and Words of Memory

Poetry Saved by Photographs and Words of Memory It hardly matters if his verse is great, Carved lines, bronze poetry, immortal stuff, Or not.  Brooke’s like a surfer on the spate Of swollen wave tops.  Killing beauty’s tough. It lingers on in culture’s core.  His face...

On the Rubbish Heap of Time . . .

          On the Rubbish Heap of Time . . .  The one he loved the most was Charles Lascelles. We have to take Brooke’s word for it that he Was beautiful.  As Rugby tower bells Rang out the hours, a passion rhymed with glee Pumped hard inside the future poet, hard...

Not Religion but Death

                   Not Religion but Death At first church fame held up his lines to heights Near immortality.  Saint Paul’s robed Dean Had read “The Soldier” in the lectern rites Of Christ’s domed space before the altar screen. It seems that Brooke knew this. ...

Not Just Fame

          Not Just Fame Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem “Sherril Shell’s Byronesque reproduction of Brooke’s own devising (the one his friends thought revulsive enough to dub ‘Your...

 Niceness as a Weapon

             Niceness as a Weapon A poet can’t be boring, that’s except When sloughing off those arrogant demands From men as snooty as Lytton.  Inept This hunter was. He never got his hands On Rupert.  Beauty and the Beast reborn Was what that situation was.  Brooke...

“Mythical Land of the Ever Young”

“Mythical Land of the Ever Young” Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem “I can’t help feeling that he has been smothered and castrated, and there he is, quite different, and...

Messy Splendor

Messy Splendor; or, Splendor in the Weeds Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem Jacques Raverat said that Rupert Brooke clothed himself “in a dishevelled style that showed off his beauty very...

Etched Joys, Wretched Joys

           Etched Joys, Wretched Joys “Rugby is full of dreary ghosts of dead hopes and remembered joys” ~ Rupert Brooke Lascelles was more than just another love For Rupert. Charles was Rupert’s first love, more Like God’s own “Fiat lux” while high above The chaos of...

Empty Charms Replaced His Stunning Charm

Empty Charms Replaced His Stunning Charm — Two Sutured Sonnets The media in ignorance gets in The way of people’s understanding of The truth.  They put a glossy glamor spin On heroes and then shy away from love That falls outside the types that Christians would...

But What is Man’s Nature?

          But What is Man’s Nature? The poet’s lofty principle about The buggering of boys’ butts was plain. When physical with guys, his only shout Was, “Follow nature.”  Poets should refrain From filling holes not meant for making kids. A woman’s hairy hole was what...

Brown Beauty and Others Left Behind

Brown Beauty and Others Left Behind “more tourist still than soldier” ~ Rupert Brooke America and Canada, their spine Of Rocky Mountains, called across the sea, Their men and women waiting, near supine Already.  Rupert left behind debris Of men and women who had seen...

Boys, Even the Poets, Become Men

     Boys, Even the Poets, Become Men When boys at school grow up, they go away And do the stupid things that boy-men do. They go do bed with women, or if gay, The boys make love while using cum as glue With other men, and if they’re young enough, These other males,...

Blending

                                 Blending Until the centuries come and blur away, Until they come and go like spirits, or Like ghosts, let us, together, come and sway As one, if that be possible.  Let each one’s core Become the other’s by a blending of Our souls and...

Big Boy Hunk

                    Big Boy Hunk The Big Boy Hunk that isn’t Rupert Brooke On Skyros is just too, too like the false, False images built up around him, like a crook Has pulled a dirty trick but wants to waltz With you, no matter what.  The Big Boy Hunk Stands towering...

Bad Actor in Two Sonnets (Forever Entangled)

Bad Actor in Two Sonnets  (Forever Entangled) Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem Bad acting doesn’t cut the mustard for An audience; well, not for most.  Brooke posed With trumpet (fake) and chiton. ...

Approximating versus Knowing

        Approximating versus Knowing He wasn’t photogenic, no, not quite. Some formal portraits capture beauty, glow Almost with glory, but don’t hold the might To hint enough of what he had to show, Why men and women staggered in their hearts. These pictures made...

“A Channel Passage”

      “A Channel Passage”   The ugliness of love, that sickness known To him and everyone, deserves to be Discussed and sonnetized.  A groan With nausea upon the sickening sea Of hormones, yep, testosterone and such, Has been the poets’ tune forever since...

Archangels in the Moon Garden on Christmas Morn

          Archangels in the Moon Garden on Christmas Morn     The flowers in whitest rows set forth their white Perfume beside the Great Rift Valley on The day that Christ was born.  A rose’s might Is all that they can muster in this dawn Of Kenya.  That is strong...

The War Poet

        The War Poet “a rich nature … fighting eagerly towards the truth.”   “I have a rendezvous with death                   At some disputed barricade” ~ Alan Seeger Alan Seeger  Not all war poets are the same as Brooke. Not all are like a cabinet display Of...

Brown Beauty and Others Left Behind

Brown Beauty and Others Left Behind “more tourist still than soldier” ~ Rupert Brooke America and Canada, their spine Of Rocky Mountains, called across the sea, Their men and women waiting, near supine Already.  Rupert left behind debris Of men and women who had seen...

A Solitary Fire

                   A Solitary Fire In bobby socks the teenyboppers used To sigh or scream about a baritone, Or tenor, or falsetto voice.  Amused, Their objects of desire jived through a zone Of smugness like a phoenix on its pyre. Before these screeching fans, young...

“unsettled by the devotion he aroused”

“unsettled by the devotion he aroused” The complication with high carat gold In men is no one knows quite how to cope With “gorgeous” in a guy.  His beauties scold All those around him.  Most go off and mope Because they know they do not have a chance At him or when...

Him for Us . . .

                           Him For Us . . . The rooms in School House echoed with the sound Of words he spoke, his steps along the hall, His laughter, even shouts.  The outside ground, In, say, the Close, though large, was far too small For such a mind and soul.  You...

“Almost Ludicrously Beautiful”

  “Almost Ludicrously Beautiful” “His looks were stunning – it is the only appropriate adjective.” ~ Leonard Woolf   “the handsomest young man in England” ~ W. B.Yeats   “He [Ganymede] was regarded as the most beautiful human on earth, male or female.” ~...

“Mythical Land of the Ever Young”

  “Mythical Land of the Ever Young” “I can’t help feeling that he has been smothered and castrated, and there he is, quite different, and memorable, could we disinter him.” ~ Virginia Woolf   “They shall grow not old, as we that are left...

Rupert Wanted Surrender

        Rupert Wanted Surrender  “Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate.    Love sells the proud heart’s citadel to fate.”~ Rupert Brooke Would women be as likely as a man To write such sentiments, to think of love As breaching walled in strength, as Æthelstan...

Taatamata and Denham Russell-Smith

Taatamata and Denham Russell-Smith The evidence, it seems, implies that stuff With women caused him greatest grief, except For Taatamata.  Mother was enough To force him to desire control.  She kept Him on the tightest lead, as best she might, And love for Ka produced...

Rugby Love Reduced to Black and White in Cambridge Love

Rugby Love Reduced to Black and White in Cambridge Love The love continued into Cambridge days. One Rugby beauty took another in A frame and kept him in his room to gaze At eyes, at stalwart auburn hair, and chin, Not just in daytime, either, but in nights Of...

Auburn Love Maleness Maleness Maleness

Auburn Love Maleness Maleness Maleness The way a twilight in the autumn turns To unsung colors, so the chapel light Inside the service changes from the burns Of orange to a brown with red so slight It slinks away as suns go down.  The red Is almost memory, not real,...

The Soldier

             The Soldier Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem In Skyros’ grove of olives, olive leaves Are brought to death by being torn from trees. The party carries him in death and grieves To lay his...

An Evensong at Rugby School Chapel

An Evensong at Rugby School Chapel Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem The service is devoted to Saint John The Baptist.  Then when prayer comes, “Lord, now let,” I think of peace and one plain tomb upon...

Blue Rugby and Blue Gallipoli

  Blue Rugby and Blue Gallipoli Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem We do not think of Rubert Brooke in blue, When we remember him at all.  We think of Brooke Between some pages of a volume, true To...

International Geographic

      International Geographic The tawny boys run through the woods and streets Wherever they are raised, in rural realms Of citrus Florida, where sunshine meets Them under orange grove trees or under elms In England—everywhere.  They build their dykes Or dams, their...

Not Far from Dremeford

       Not Far from Dremeford Though painted by the sunset, streams have no Awareness of the western sea.  The graves Beneath the castle have no knowledge, though They face towards the dawn.  Aflame like naves At Easter, children’s eyes compete with glass In sunward...

Death Sneers Silently at Services

Death Sneers Silently at Services We sing to dead ones.  That is how we pray. We sing the hymns and requiems. We chant The kaddish and the words of fate.  We sway In robes the living wear.  The pious rant Which sounds more beautiful than death, unless The timbre is of...

Fired Clay, Ardent Metal

     Fired Clay, Ardent Metal The Russian dome looms up in blue and gold, The sacred onion shape in gold and blue, A Golden Section shape with thoughts as old As God perhaps or Archimedes’ true Reflections, dome with tiles more blue than skies Of Greece in August,...

A Sacred Lurch

               A Sacred Lurch         .. I often pass a dome of holy blue With golden stars, a prayer-hands, tulip form With many-pointed stars.  To give this view, A narrow church stands firm.  A cherry storm Of pink blows up from down below.  (A sight I spied not...