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Wakes and Contrails

          Wakes and Contrails Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem                                                 Away, Far, far behind, is all that they can say. ~ Arthur Hugh Clough, “Where Lies...

Perfect Paradoxes, October’s Oxymorons

Perfect Paradoxes, October’s Oxymorons The point of fall is melancholy joy. The oranges, yellows, and the reds are breaths Of autumn but in parallel destroy. Their bright solemnity a trillion deaths Entails.  The oranges are calmly rife With gorgeouness of gloom. ...

A Prophetess’s Eyes

          A Prophetess’s Eyes For Charles Randall Stanfield Her eyes were deep clairvoyant blue but streaked With selfishness, a kind of hate, that stabbed The hearts around her.  They were like the beaked Face eagles have when talons have just grabbed Their victims. ...

Irradiated Irises

            Irradiated Irises Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem His eyes were deep clairvoyant blue, and blue Of lighter kind, both present in his face At once for Paul to fall in love with.  True To...

Forget About Your Duties, Journalists

Forget About Your Duties, Journalists Not everything must be about the spiked Coronavirus.  Tell the media And they would laugh.  You see that they are dyked Up, blocked bowels.  Encyclopedia Materials imply ten thousand things That could be focused on instead, but,...

Textually Abused

           Textually Abused It used to be that English teachers taught Us poetry by reading it aloud Or telling us that on our own we ought To memorize it.  In the distant cloud Of eons past all poetry was set In memory by bards but maybe no One else.  Our teachers...

Carving Out the Measure of Devotion

Carving Out the Measure of Devotion Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem You hardly know the truth of passion till You put it in the context of its doom. It seems as hot as sun spots or the spill Of lava...

Off and Off, or On and On

 Off and Off, or On and On Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem So . . . everything will die, disintegrate, Be lost, and atoms will be less than mist. So what?  The poets have remarked this fate For...