by phillipw | Oct 14, 2019 | CH, DE, LO, MO, ST
My Menu in Hades My life is bitter now or it has lost Its flavour, maybe both, because it seems To be a sour fruit that’s sliced and tossed Away. It falls upon a pile of dreams I used to have (or maybe I just guessed Those dreams existed). It’s so hard to prove...
by phillipw | Oct 14, 2019 | DE, LU, MO
Fixed among the Embers I have this widowed sense about my life, A lack of presence so profound that love Is alien. I’m like a sloughed off wife Or prayerful addict now divested of My sacred drug. The sense is I have lost A major universal law surrounding me, That...
by phillipw | Oct 14, 2019 | RI, VE
Paul and Arthur [Have you ever noticed how the writers, The critics and biographers, insist On using surnames for them? The blighters Call them “Verlaine” and “Rimbaud.” Manly mist Beclouds the truth when academics choose Those family names instead of...
by phillipw | Oct 14, 2019 | CH, LO, ST, UN
“From Thy Dead Lips” There’s just a hollowness that has your smell Around it—like an aura of the sins We never did together. This shell, Its fan form, waits, on shores where death begins (If death can righteously be said to mark A start). The light around this...
by phillipw | Oct 14, 2019 | BR, LU
Across the Desk from me in the British Library The shape of nostril is enough alone To say, “Write love about me. Write it now!” The message pierces through the central bone That holds my ribs together like a vow Of chastity that must be broken. Rip My...
