by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | IN
Otherwise You do not meet your own desires in those You love. You cannot find yourself in men Or women, even women who transpose Your feelings into mountain and braw glen With mist that rivals healing of the bone, Or men who stroke emotion in your veins....
by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | AM
Uncertainty Uncertainty makes poetry. The true Is not its aim. The bull’s eye isn’t part Of what real poetry desires. Its blue Is not quite blue: it is the blue of heart, More glaucous than an azure sky, more like The powdered bloom which grapes grow on...
by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | AL, SW
Plutarch on the Perfume of Alexander’s Skin “Aristoxenus in his Memoirs tells us that a most agreeable odour exhaled from his skin, and that his breath and body all over was so fragrant as to perfume the clothes which he wore next him” ...
by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | UG
Ugly (Young Men) What must it be like if you’re ugly when Your twenty? I see lots of ugly guys Around me in the world. These younger men Don’t wear a burkha showing only eyes, Nope. No. They walk around as if their mugs Are bearable to those who...
by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | LO
What St. Teresa Felt at the Time She Suffered Christ’s Stigmata It’s like I’ve learned to breathe submerged Beneath the souls of those I loved or in Their depths. This floating inhalation urged Itself inside the universe, the twin Of normal panting—only now the...
by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | LO
What St. Francis Felt at the Time He Suffered Christ’s Stigmata It’s like I’ve learned to breathe submerged Beneath the souls of those I loved or in Their depths. This floating inhalation urged Itself inside the universe, the twin Of normal panting—only now the...
by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | BE, JA, MA
Male Harmony Makes Heaven How holy is the true light when it falls Across his head, his polished golden strands Like golden angel hair. Their gloss recalls The Christmas trees of childhood as he stands There singing in the dark carved wood of choir And stalls among...
by phillipw | Oct 17, 2019 | P, VE
Lucien Viotti, Arthur Rimbaud, and Lucien Létinois ‘armes lentes’ ~ Paul Verlaine Paul always was a child prodigy when It came to slow, slow tearfulness about Those ones he loved, especially young men. Paul specialized in slowed rubato pout When...
