by phillipw | Nov 4, 2019 | BE
Beauty Far Beyond Meaning I get a glimpse of golden Russian cross And turban blue of dome. The bus speeds past The ancient blend of cultures with the gloss And semi-gloss of urban psyches cast Together for a thousand years or more. There must be chanting just beneath...
by phillipw | Oct 31, 2019 | BE
With Every Grace Endued He leans his high-arced cheek against the carved Wood decoration by his head. His slim And slightly, slightly arching nose is starved Of ugliness, since ugliness for him Is distant as the depths from heaven’s height. The anthem...
by phillipw | Oct 30, 2019 | BE
In the Canterbury Choir How beautiful and long a face can stretch, In competition with a sculpture on A Norman pier, Modgiliani sketch, Or long as a Tahitian mountain dawn. Can lips assume this richest red, as warm As classic bricks in hillside twilight, more...
by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | BE, JA, MA
Male Harmony Makes Heaven How holy is the true light when it falls Across his head, his polished golden strands Like golden angel hair. Their gloss recalls The Christmas trees of childhood as he stands There singing in the dark carved wood of choir And stalls among...
by phillipw | Oct 16, 2019 | BE
Radioactive Loveliness The face across from me is beautiful, So beautiful it strikes my lungs with pain, Destroys desires for being dutiful— Except for loyalty to loving’s stain. I thought that beauty of this order could Not be discovered in this modern day, A time...
by phillipw | Oct 15, 2019 | BE, MA
The Fortunate Fall of Hair Across a Forehead His hair is worth the trouble Christ has caused In making all this universe of pain. This hair is Rupert Brooke’s hair, waved and paused In holy photographs, but blond again, Not printed, real as Christ surrounded by...
