by phillipw | Feb 15, 2020 | JO, KE, SE
The Final Leg of John Keats’ Journey to Death [John Keats, in case you didn’t know already, died of TB when he was very young. In a desperate attempt to save his life, his friends subscribed money to send him to live in Italy. This ploy failed and he died...
by phillipw | Feb 10, 2020 | MA, SE
Hercules Had a Cudgel For men it’s violence and sex. For them The love comes accidentally at best. They want to lift up Aphrodite’s hem And rape what she has never quite suppressed There, furred between her thighs, but first they must Fulfill the need to...
by phillipw | Jan 25, 2020 | SE, SU
Prince of Silence “FIREBALL HORROR AT THE PALACE” ~ London Evening Standard, p. 1, February 9, 2016 He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t tell A soul. No whisper even from his death Was given as he left his private hell. The only message was the whooshing...
by phillipw | Jan 24, 2020 | SE
Holiness As beautiful as arrow bolts inside The skin of Saint Sebastian, his flesh Made up of martyrdom, his holey hide As glossy as the oil paints when fresh, That moment is the one that we desire. Forget the pain. At first it’s only dull, Or...
by phillipw | Jan 19, 2020 | ID, SE
That Sumptuous Look A smile like God’s perfume implied that…what? That in behind it was vanilla love, Or fragrance like a diamond so cut That only what is perfect from above Could be its meaning. It refracted all The colors of the one ideal and smelled...
by phillipw | Jan 12, 2020 | SE
Who Knows Where We Are Going? Who knows where we are going when we set Off every day? We start out for the shops And meet the one we’ve always dreamed of, Brett Or Betty. Or we pass a winter copse While on a bus to Oxford, open wide Our book, . . . and find...
