CONTEMPORARY POETRY

What It Is

              What It Is It is what it is because of what it is not Being what it is not because Nothing is not what it isn’t By virtue of what it is. Notwithstanding that what it isn’t Is not what defines what it is, Though...Read More »

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Dark clouds over Salisbury

              Dark clouds over Salisbury The sun stayed low all day. Reddening the clouds. Blinding me occasionally as I turned a corner or window shopping, caught it’s reflection. But the sun brought no warmth. It stayed cold and the slush remained. Too warm to freeze. Too cold to melt. The spire threw...Read More »

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Untitled

                  Untitled May I never become jaded through the poetry I writeMay the words I use be never written purely out of spiteMay the seeds of healthy inspiration grow inside my mindMay that inspiration never be too difficult to findMay creative winds blow gently if I stumble in my questMay the flicker...Read More »

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Poetry For President

                            Poetry For President  Tell me Mr President, I’d really like to know How you built a whole campaign from your poetic flow? Did you feel that strategy would be the way to go? Did you seek advice from others also in the know? Tel me...Read More »

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Mole

                  Mole Considering where he’s beenmole is quite sleek and clean. Nose sharp, an arrow head’his a keen sense of smell guides him through the dark. Moles eyes like pinheadshis dense fur, soft, so brownit’s almost black. His pink hands, are scoop shape, fivelong white claws, to scrapeand toil, tunnel through soilin...Read More »

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World Between Worlds

                                World Between Worlds Two lively green eyes appraise her reflection.A pretty face is mirrored in the brass clock dial. Trapped in time, afloat inside rainbow bubbles. She waits for them to burst. juggles new spheres blown from her mind.She watches people frolic in the lake of fire. Light streams out from behind...Read More »

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Pregnant

                  Pregnant Elopes. Pregnant the first week.Turns eighteen. Glows.At commencement, her mama’s faceburns, but she is proud to showthe bulge beneath her skirt— her life-till-now’s work.The world is her bouquet—dogwood with ten-penny wounds,lacy fringe tree, meadowsweet,morning glory in the hay. In idle August, she hauls her bellyto the store for a Co-Cola.The streets under...Read More »

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Mary Ascending

                                Mary Ascending Eight couplets for your tale MagdalenaAntognetti, model for the Pilrgim’s Mary, Infant in your arms, your face in afternoon sunhaloed by whispers: Trysts with Monsignor Crescenzi, and Cardinal Montalto; shadowscast by courtesan’s mantle in Corso’s grey hours. Drowned woman from Tiber risen, so the story’stold, you return to the living to...Read More »

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Untitled

                  Untitled Lone sentinel on Cape Smokey,rooted in rock hard ground,dancer in the wind,guardian of the north Atlantic. The distant sound of a fog horntrembling your limbs,naked to the cold and wetof this dark island. Cries of drowning mencaptured by your branches,drawn from your carved bodyby the rosin and the bow. Knowing its place on...Read More »

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England's Rose

                  England’s Rose No longer in the first flush blush red with splashes of cream, at center a golden heart to draw the bees. When my spines hook you, take me tenderly with care enjoy my honeyed essence. Petals open wide, drink in sunlight temptation bids you trace my curves always...Read More »

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