Mar 13, 2016 | Grief, Gus Stevens, Songs for the Dead, Sonnet, Victorian Sonnet
I remember, at fourteen, when I dropped my mother’s paring knife into the lake, how it seemed that time had slowed, may have stopped– but a moment too late. The sudden ache in my arms, too slow and too short to reach through watery darks, a blind hope to...
Mar 6, 2016 | Gus Stevens, Rondel, Songs for the Dead
“Look at the picture. Where is the boy?” “Use your finger, like this, and point right here.” Some sounds come out of the scowling man, “We’re wasting time. Better to let him enjoy himself, stare at the sun, fondle a toy.”...
Feb 20, 2016 | Gus Stevens, Humor, Rondel
You violated right-of-way when you cut in front of all of us– a hundred drivers and a city bus– to be the first car parked on the freeway. There were a few words I wanted to say but it’s Lent and my wife growls when I cuss; you violated right-of-way...
Jan 24, 2016 | Bible Story, Gus Stevens, Prophets, Sonnet, The Unspeakable Name vol. 2, Victorian Sonnet
What the locust swarm has left the great locusts have eaten; -The Prophet Joel We’ve eaten all the corn we’d saved for seed and there are no animals left to bleed upon our stone altars trying to appease the storm gods or whoever’s there to...
Dec 21, 2015 | Advent, Chiastic, Gus Stevens, Seasons, Winter
Long lay the world in sin and error pining Till he appeared and the soul felt it’s worth. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoicing For yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn. -John Sullivan Dwight All the nations grope about in the dark to find...
Dec 6, 2015 | Chiastic, Gus Stevens, Irregular Rhyme, Sinner's Psalms vol. 1
Thou art more than the day or the morrow, the seasons that laugh or that weep; For these give joy and sorrow; but thou, Proserpina, sleep. —Algernon Charles Swinburne, Hymn to Prosperine If asked to choose: eternal life or sleep, he’s not sure how...
