Featured Topic: Dreams
Featured Product: Seasons
Featured Writer: poets better and more famous than me
Featured Form: Rondel
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The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats
Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all...
Severe Side Winds by Rusten Walter Harris
Late night crossing the narrow passage A warning light flashes "severe side winds" My hands on the wheel, I wonder How many other travelers in the dark Upon their way to the hospital where their child is tied up with hoses and cords Read those words and felt once...
Excerpts from ‘The Rubaiyat or Omar Khayyam’ translated by Edward FitzGerald
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. [...] With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the...
Iron Sky
With a howl, October's winds shear the fiery hosts of their yellows and reds to leave the branches bare. Then the orphaned leaves are stained, like little brown ghosts, on the sidewalk before they're raised into the air again. A resurrecting tempest—they fall up and...
Mercenary Love: reflections on C.S. Lewis’s ‘The Great Divorce’
It's said that Heaven's Father never will receive worship from those mercenaries who use love's coin to purchase other joys. If sought not for himself, his hands will kill the traitor gods and glamouring fairies who allow us to be...
Love and Sleep by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Lying asleep between the strokes of night I saw my love lean over my sad bed, Pale as the duskiest lily’s leaf or head, Smooth-skinned and dark, with bare throat made to bite, Too wan for blushing and too warm for white, But...
Cider by Rusten Walter Harris
Three rungs from the top of a rickety four legged ladder My entire body straining to grasp those clustered King apples Mostly green, with flecks of red on their skin facing the sun Reaching further than I ought I put a little weight on an old branch Knowing very well...
“What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why” by Edna St. Vincent Millay
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply, And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain For...
November by William Cullen Bryant
Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun! One mellow smile through the soft vapory air, Ere, o’er the frozen earth, the loud winds run, Or snows are sifted o’er the meadows bare. One smile on the brown hills and naked trees, And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths...
La Petite Mort
The body delights in its own travail, both teased and tortured by a pulsing strain with claws of pleasure resembling pain. She prophesies but cannot pierce the veil; she approaches but cannot breach the pale. The end she sees and struggles to obtain with breathless...
Excerpts from Ecclesiastes 1-2
What do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun? Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises and the sun sets, and hurries back to where it rises. The wind blows to the south and turns to the north;...
Siblings: for Shiloh and Judah
Being eldest, she always knew the best places to hide for games of hide and seek and where to find the abandoned bird's nest or the stones you needed to cross the creek with dry shoes. She was strong and fast and brave; she already knew most of the letters and how to...
A Seduction: in Four Seasons
Look my young fool, born with the Spring's first green, our morning is all spent and now the afternoon bleeds red in the west. Will you really be so mean as to ignore the pot you set upon the coals? I want you, and the water will be boiling soon. Come, Fool, with me...
Yes, I Was Once Afraid of Bees
Back when I was afraid of bees with a fear most grave and sober; I would flinch when they'd flyover, would shrink and beg my mother, "Please let me stay inside away from these!" Whining from May to October. Yes, I was once afraid of bees but now I see with eyes more...
A Song for Scarlett
Scarlett, O Scarlett, you are self-destroyed because you would not see your truest friend and despised all you might have else enjoyed. I ache over you, as the pages end, though, yes, "Tomorrow is another day." We knew your iron will would never bend; until it broke,...