by phillipw | Sep 21, 2024 | Uncategorized
Adoration Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem I want the night to lose its blindness, take Its blindfold off for angels’ searing sight. I want a fissure caused by earth’s crust’s quake To...
by phillipw | Sep 21, 2024 | CH, ST, UN
Unconcern Separated by the Thickness of Hot Skin Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem Your blood was always free of light for me. You kept your secrets utter in between The women. Bleeding like a maple tree...
by phillipw | Sep 20, 2024 | Uncategorized
“A Man of Original Inactivity” ~ Ikkyū A nothingness is where we come from, writes A poet, and we go to nothing, then Insists we’re like a bird, in that, in mead flights Through Viking halls goes out the window, men Not noticing. It flies from night to night, From...
by phillipw | Sep 19, 2024 | BU, HI, MO, RE
Not Just Nirvana The meaning of the Passion does not quite Fit in with Buddha’s or the Hindus’ way So near enough one fifth thinks Passion’s blight. The point is in escaping it, its sway. Samsara is at best a dirtiness That reels out incarnations,...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2024 | LA, SI
Outside the Realm of Words Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem “Words after all,” he said, “are only words ; And I have heard so many in these few days ...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2024 | Uncategorized
The Mind is Not Just Watercolors Washed by Misty Breezes in an Oriental Picture Frame Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem Our consciousness, that thing we call our mind When it is walking wide-eyed in the...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2024 | Uncategorized
A Disappearing Fact All sins in every place and every time Are sins, not matter what. The sins long past Are hard for us to realize. Each crime That we have not committed like the vast Ones, Buchenwald and Auschwitz, we can not Quite deal with, never...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2024 | IN
Red Letter Day and South American Spice Today I spooled out sonnets, sonnets, ten Of them, extruding all like plastic knives, Or forks, or spoons. They spilled again, again, Again as boring as Solomon’s wives Became to him, perhaps, each plaything thin As plastic...
