by phillipw | Feb 2, 2020 | CH
[This is the Petrarchan sonnet I wrote tonight, Christmas Eve. Hmm. That was in 2012 I started it on the coach ride to the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols at St. George’s Chapel in Windsor Castle and finished during the organ music preceding the service. ...
by phillipw | Jan 24, 2020 | CH, JE
The Long-haired One The long-haired man, the trouble-maker in A pose, yes, always; ever in those clothes That none of us would wear . . . he has that chin Held there too strong (as if he could depose Our ways with just his attitude) Or much too low (as if...
by phillipw | Jan 22, 2020 | CH, LO, ST
Print Before Reading I want your hands to hold my written words, Your hovering fingers to caress them, your Fingertips to touch these lines like a bird’s— A hummingbird’s—wing wafts the air, the pure And cool breeze fanned above the nectar. I Want your...
by phillipw | Dec 16, 2019 | CH, ST
Graffiti Are we just God’s graffiti, you more bold Than I, and I a bit too fancy like Calligraphy on Mandarin silk rolled Round ivory; you big, a brilliant spike Of gold and orange, I a purple line Perhaps predestined as your foil? Are you And I created...
by phillipw | Dec 16, 2019 | CH
Glimmer The species known as Christmas tree of course Was born of artificiality When mated with some sentimental force, Weak against the grain of reality Perhaps, but strong enough to glitter through Our harsher (even brutal) life of facts And win our...
by phillipw | Dec 16, 2019 | CH, ST
Past Addictions There’s death and there’s enduring. Other than That, not much else. Don’t give me all that shit About how wonderful life is. A clan Of optimists dressed in Day Glo can hit My head with hope. I’ll reply, “Love and faith Take...
