by phillipw | Jun 24, 2023 | FR, MA
The Bride If Tennyson had crushed that flower in The crannied wall, would he have known what God And man are? Would that poet know what sin And Christ’s theodicy are? Overawed Is what this rhymester wanted most to be. He didn’t really...
by phillipw | Jun 23, 2023 | WO
The World of their Father’s Purity “The blue walls of the firmament, No cloud above, no earth below,— A universe of sky and snow!” ~ “Snow-bound” ~ John Greenleaf Whittier His family fled Chicago storms of snow And settled on a cape of...
by phillipw | Jun 23, 2023 | Uncategorized
Their Father’s Medication–“The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers” Their father’s voice resounded not as pure As Wilma’s in “The Holy City”–yet As utter in his recitation, cure For evils all around, a voice to whet Our...
by phillipw | Jun 22, 2023 | LO, RO, UN
Loves Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem “My old dreams disappeared when you arrived.” ~ La Bohème Nine thousand million people, even more, Have known those operatic karats in...
by phillipw | Jun 18, 2023 | LO, ME
Memories as Lasting as a Christmas Tree Dumped on a Heap Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem Mind, even Christmas Days can be denied Their memories. Lost for decades now a pic Resurfaces. (A special day...
by phillipw | Jun 16, 2023 | AE, ES
Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem “What Keats meant was that the further into beauty we go, the more we make it our own, the more our life is immersed in beauty, the...
by phillipw | Jun 10, 2023 | MA, SU
Superbland Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem That so-called Superman is not so great. Never writes a sonnet sequence in Ten seconds (OR far fewer). Second-rate He is. At speeding-bullet...
by phillipw | Jun 3, 2023 | AR, AU, JE
Photographs as Conquerors She languishes beyond the portraits made, Aligned above the keyboard and then on Her dressing table. In the one with shade Below the left eye rests a darker dawn Which, if we might have known its meaning first, Would maybe have required...
