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- Each thing that starts must have an endEach thing that starts must have an end; for every wax there is a wend that once begun, moves to its finish. Every birth has …
- America is Still: an erasure exerciseAmerica, as Whitman wrote, is fading low; her heartbeat, a sour note. Her voice blows sadness, and one can hear her weep. Her voice resonates …
- The Speech Not Given: a deachnadh morSad, the speech he could have given for men dead and those living might have meant more, if believing destiny were a haven. In the …
- Each thing that starts must have an end
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Author Archives: John
The Same Street: rispetto
The difference is, he starts to say, between our diametric views, is in defining work and play: that one is waste, and one is use. That sets the tone for what must be, more than different reality, two separate worlds … Continue reading
Posted in Planes
Tagged #BookofForms, disagreement, Italian verse forms, opinion, opposition, poetic forms, rispetto, worldview
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If Seeking: rionnard tri-nard
If you would seek wisdom, the walls of your prison must be made a prism. To purify vision, let light begin creeping like mice, softly sneaking, almost still half sleeping – if wisdom you’re seeking. 03 MAY 2017 © 2017, … Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, illusion, Irish verse forms, poetic forms, prison, rionnaird tri-nard, seeking, silence, wisdom
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What Good is That: rime royal
What is the Truth, that we spend all our days, from birth to death, imagining so fair that we invent, seek to avoid or praise some vain ideal constructed from thin air, that as illusion is beyond compare; it casts … Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, decision, Geoffrey Chaucer, illusion, poetic verse forms, power, rime royal, truth
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Closing Time: rime couée
Down at the bar we sit and wait, as if our glory days, so great, still might return anon. We act younger throughout the night, so we forget, while we get tight, that halcyon is gone. And all the girls … Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, age, drinking, French verse forms, glory days, illusion, poetic forms, rime couée
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Good Grief: rimas dissolutas
Good grief! What else did you expect? A world set suddenly to rights, some glibly promised golden dawn, rough places sanded down to plain, and milk and honey handed out to both devout and infidel? Instead, you got a fresh … Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, blindness, French verse forms, grief, hypocrisy, lies, poetic forms, rimas dissolutas
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The Critic: riddle
Who tears apart, but never builds; in summer, says he prefers chills; proclaims “I won’t” when others will; expects to never pay the bill? Who tends to “no”, withholding “yes”; predicts more failure than success; looks to curse rather than … Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, criticism, critics, illusion, negativity, poetic forms, relationship, riddle, self-denial
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Lose or Win: rhupunt
What may begin as lose or win soon starts to spin outside that frame. It seems like play, this bob and sway: a bright display, almost a game, a wild careen, drifting between two wide extremes, darkness and flame. Always … Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, art, beginnings, endings, loss, perspective, poetic forms, rhupunt, victory, Welsh verse forms
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