by phillipw | Mar 1, 2020 | BR, FA, JO, KE, ST
The Hard Truth: Keats The myth rides gently on that wasting death. Consumption weakened him as if a spell Were cast by Tories hating lines with breath For weaker ones among us. He was well In brain and soul, this little giant filled With all nobilities, this...
by phillipw | Feb 17, 2020 | BR, FA, JO, KE
The Jewel a Bright Star Gave Him . The lover holds carnelian between His thumb and finger (far too late to write More poetry), then palms it there to lean Against his lifeline. If the stone is white Or red like blood that turns away from life Is well beyond God’s...
by phillipw | Feb 10, 2020 | AE, BE, BR, ES, MA
Ashurbanipal Reincarnated At a Desk in Rare Books and Music A sternness in the beauty of his nose, His eyebrows and the arch above them, Its sweeping, upward, back—these all compose An epic that should wear a diadem. Its jewels should be from Asia and the isles Of...
by phillipw | Jan 22, 2020 | BR, CO, RO
The Last Rose of Winter … November presses on in coldness, wind And cruel light exposing death around The garden. Life and beauty have been skinned, The greens and pinks and whitest petals browned To desolation, but one bush holds out. It holds up high its...
by phillipw | Jan 8, 2020 | BR, KE, ST
So Keats was Wrong So Keats was wrong: a star is not so firm Or steadfast as a lover’s sonnet yearns For it to be. In fact, his urgent sperm Was probably more loyal and his tears For Fanny Brawne more strident than two bright, Twin stars. Besides, some stars...
by phillipw | Jan 6, 2020 | BR
How Many Continents? How many continents and oceans has He crossed to come and sit here in this place? With yellow cheekbones elevated as An ancient scholar’s parasol, this face Is calmer than the autumn moon. The march Of eyebrows laid on brusquely, widely by A...
