by phillipw | Feb 11, 2020 | PA
Long Underwear and Hot Water Bottles vs. Mills and Boon Those things we take for granted like the greens Surrounding us in Windsor, greyish clouds, Our waking up, and toast and tea routines, The tastelessness of Tuesday shopping crowds On Oxford Street the week before...
by phillipw | Feb 6, 2020 | PA
Exorcism A man who cannot tame his heart, control Its snarling, wild excesses is a waste, A waste and glory. He is like a scroll With marring marks which cannot be erased, Yet underneath them in a fuming gold, The words of God, enflamed like Sinai, Are...
by phillipw | Jan 22, 2020 | PA
Unsentimental The frozen tarn, so dark below, so bright Across its surface, can’t be happy, sad Or feel emotion, either black or light. Above it rime-trimmed saplings cannot gad About in frolics, move in mourning or Have feelings harbored in their swaying...
by phillipw | Dec 27, 2019 | AR, PA, RI, VE
Sex, Drugs, and Roses It seems at least a possibility That spoiled, soiled brats might just have feelings, too. They’d have the usual ones, hostility And sulking, and that adolescent brew Of self-regard, fragility, and rage. But maybe Rimbaud had...
by phillipw | Nov 14, 2019 | PA
Inside You The past is still. The past is always past. It lurks, the only absolute. Today Cannot be guaranteed. It may not last, At least for you and me. Destiny’s sway Might sweep it into nothingness. A blink Of fate’s tart eye, a wink of poison...
by phillipw | Nov 14, 2019 | PA
Yesterday The past is far away, is farther gone Than those reaches far beyond the cosmos’ bounds, And more removed than any future dawn. The past lurks far beyond the deafened sounds Of darkness in between black holes, the deeps Of space between the...
