by phillipw | Dec 4, 2019 | EN
A View among English Hills “about the woodlands I will go” ~ A. E. Housman He stands beneath a live oak tree. It wears Its leaves and bark. Sheep wear white wool. The wolds Are clothed in fields and trees. They all are stairs To heaven. Under them he firmly...
by phillipw | Nov 2, 2019 | EN
Buddha with Acne Imagining the Buddha as a thing Of ugliness might help. Any insights Then might be less lovely. They might not sing Like anthems in a temple full of lights In polished candle holders. Beauty would Become beside the point. Revelation Would...
by phillipw | Sep 19, 2019 | EN
Tulips in the Night An ordinary darkness covers them. It’s just the night. And they . . . they are only Tulips. It’s not like death has dragged her hem Across them. Why not let them be lonely In their detachment from the sun? But no, I have to take...
by phillipw | Aug 12, 2019 | EN
Jerusalem His face is mild, as mild as Elgar chords Set down on paper, or a late June day In Gloucestershire, as mild as sleeping lords In Parliament. His young beard’s a display Of masculinity, or maybe just A statement of his academic bent. That’s more...
