by phillipw | Jan 13, 2023 | CH
The Pink-cloud Morning These branches first saw April air before They saw the buds and cherry blossoms. Bare They looked upon March winds which barks ignore. Inside of those wrapped hard is pink aware Of promise and fulfilment. Later years Will show them...
by phillipw | Jan 13, 2023 | AR, BL, MO
Unlike Us Who Shrivel Separately The morning glories Brandish side by side and then They wither, wither. ~ Hokushi (Englished by Phillip Whidden) It is as if the vines and tendrils grow Because some God thinks He has made...
by phillipw | Jan 13, 2023 | CA, LO
After the Regicide The cats scream out soprano, tenor love And desperate alto love beneath. They know A deeper meaning, one of passion, shove And claws we humans have forgotten. So Intense their hatred which they wrap up in Their wooing that we feel...
by phillipw | Jan 13, 2023 | MO, RE
By the Stone Path The morning glories do not have to pray Or chant a sutra in a scarlet voice In sunlight, do not even need a sway From breezes. They are holiness, no choice Or sacred regimen, the sort that monks Or nuns indulge required. Blooms’...
by phillipw | Jan 12, 2023 | Uncategorized
Higher Still and Higher Cold saw and breeze, birch Branch: sawdust rises up on Winter wind to limbs. ~ Phillip Whidden The birch tree is an innocent, its white Increased by splatches. Maybe even black Is innocent the...
by phillipw | Jan 11, 2023 | AR, KY, OL, SA, SO
Some Things Don’t Need Recollection An old man takes his time to wrap around His sag of flesh the armor. This care’s not Because he fears the fight or battle ground. It’s just because his joints are are stiff and fraught With aches. One younger...
by phillipw | Jan 10, 2023 | DE, TR
Ultraviolet Poetry True poetry tries not to be a phrase Or meaning, but a color God forgot To make, a tint of blue perhaps, a phase https://images.app.goo.gl/wA9L2aQmRaqN9KgU9 Of orange, that purple punctured Jesus sought When vinegar in sponge was forced...
by phillipw | Jan 8, 2023 | CH, DE, TO
Communion Under the cherry Blooms there is no one who is An utter stranger. ~ Issa, Englished by Phillip Whidden Some circumstances turn us all to friends Or bring us closer than stray strangers set Apart. The pinkness arching...
