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- Memory is the Greatest WeaponMemory is the greatest weapon in love’s mad arsenal. I wrote that line when I was 26 years old. It still rings true – although …
- Eulogy on a Blank CanvasI was born; that’s not quite news, nor is the sequence of events that followed closely there behind of much import, or consequence: like Isaac, …
- What Really MattersCould be bitter; what’s the point? Each generation must anoint its own legion of heroes to cut down. Complaining they did not pick me this …
- Memory is the Greatest Weapon
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Author Archives: John
Idol
Don’t want to be an American idol, good for a season and then tossed away; held up like Jesus and the King James Bible, blamed for the country’s future going astray. Don’t want to be an American idol, hawking potato … Continue reading
Wake Early: rhopalic verse
Wake early, quietly, deliberate; look closely, carefully, attentively. Pay greater attention, specifically, to whispers: lingering, ephemeral. 26 APR 2017 © 2017, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.
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Tagged #BookofForms, awakening, morning, poetic forms, purpose, rhopalic verse
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Day Flight: rannaigheacht mhor
Each new day is so fleeting: like a busy bee flitting between its sweet hits, floating, never slowing nor quitting. Life’s made of days flying: sighed hellos and then goings. Through each room we go gliding: near colliding, then dying. … Continue reading
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Tagged #BookofForms, brevity, illusion, Irish verse forms, life, poetic forms, rannaigheacht mhor, time
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Little Bird: rannaigheacht ghairid
Little bird: did you think that no one heard your bright melody at dawn, long gone before day’s first word? Seems absurd that your little tune conferred on my thoughts such peaceful ease across the breeze, little bird. 17 APR … Continue reading
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Tagged #BookofForms, birds, Irish verse forms, morning, poetic forms, rannaigheacht ghairid, song
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Reducto Nostalgia: quatorzain
Some folks who wax nostalgic will believe that all the future’s answers can be found back in a yesterday that never was which lingers, like some land of make believe: a place where truth and justice are dispensed like manna … Continue reading
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Tagged #BookofForms, blindness, fate, ignorance, illusion, nostalgia, poetic forms, quatorzain
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Heart of Mine: Qasida
Love, how sweet and how sublime your song fills this heart of mine with nourishment that seems divine, suited for this heart of mine. So I start a troubled climb that may strain this heart of mine, up the mountainside … Continue reading
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Tagged #BookofForms, Arabic verse forms, fulfillment, love, poetic forms, qasida
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Smoke and Mirror: poulter’s measure
The world of late is full of crashing sound and blurry vision, a thunder crash inside a cloud – lost in indecision. Some claim that sunshine lurks around the corner, only waiting for those who dare beyond the haze, past … Continue reading
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Tagged #BookofForms, alexandrine, confusion, darkness, fog, fourteener, hate, illusion, poetic forms, poulter's measure, sight
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