by phillipw | Jul 24, 2025 | Uncategorized
Can Facebook and Such Bastards like Instagram Arrange an Advisory Panel for William Way Back When? What now should sonnets be in modern time Of TikTok and of Instagram when words Are now despised as if they were a crime, As if poetic lines are now dried turds? Some...
by phillipw | Jul 24, 2025 | Uncategorized
Felonies Against High-minded Culture What if our sonnets could be made of pics, Of teenage girls or pre-teen ones, or of The sorts that male gaze pervs, yes, such-like pricks Would fancy? What if sonnets side-lined love For visuals and vids, including snaps Of...
by phillipw | Jul 23, 2025 | Uncategorized
Double, Double, Double Predestination Beyond the Apostle’s Imagination Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem The giant gem foundations of Saint John’s Jerusalem in Heaven aren’t that large, Not...
by phillipw | Jul 23, 2025 | AE, BA, ES
Murder Will Out “goodness, like murder, will out” ~ R. H. Blyth Nerds try to kill normality like those Who kill off music, art and poetry. The twelve-tone tunes (?) attempt to set a pose Of music, but our normal ears still see Straight through the scam. In...
by phillipw | Jul 23, 2025 | Uncategorized
Pathetic Fallacy and Other Figures of Speech At last with incense All around his temple face He looks like a man. ~ Kenkabō [Englished by Phillip Whidden] Pathetic fallacy is needed for...
by phillipw | Jul 23, 2025 | AG, AT, RE
An Unnecessary Vacuum Quite apart from faiths, We see the cherry blossoms And blooms on plum trees. ~ Nanpoku [Englished by Phillip Whidden] Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem...
by phillipw | Jul 21, 2025 | FR, NI, PH, PL
A Deaf Man Eavesdropping ~ a phrase from R. H. Blyth Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem Since Plato was a deaf man eavesdropping, We do not have to pay attention to That man. Philosophy went out shopping...
by phillipw | Jul 21, 2025 | Uncategorized
Not Even for Cleopatra Once youth has fled the skin, the beauty will Be like the dryness and the sand of dunes. The breasts will sag like rotting fruit and spill Towards death, or worse, like twelve-tone music tunes Abandoned by the likes of Mendelssohn. The...
