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Crippled Poets

          Crippled Poets Among the earliest of lines to spring And linger utterly till now are long Ones drawn from blinded eyes.  The verses sing Like prophets’ spirits which must see.  A song Of guts, the gods, and marrow-spills came out From manly depths behind the...

Crushed Wings of Longing

Crushed Wings of Longing Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse “Some say he was around sixty-three years old when he met his death” ~ Michael Schmidt, The First Poets Much longer than the greatest poet I Have lived.  We have no notion...

Defeat in Battle

        Defeat in Battle ………. True beauty is allowed to lapse to make Some room for what is novel, just the new, As if by definition modish ache Is better than the perfect pain.  This skew Along to holiness of fashion runs The flopping risk of...

Cave versus Agora

      Cave versus Agora That Plato thug looms; just pathetic, though, Pretending that he’s thinking straight about Ideals.  He doesn’t have a clue.  The glow Of solitary thought, that drought, Is all he cares to focus on.  Supreme And dictatorial his brain but in A...

Sacred Incenses

            Sacred Incenses The fragrance of the orange groves comes down From paradise, whatever God you know. A Christ, Ganesha—or an Allah frown . . . Yes, even that—must carry with it glow Of perfect redolence from heaven.  White Perfection flows out from the...