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The Sunlit House

White, through the gate it gleamed and slept
In shattered sunshine. The parched garden flowers
Their scarlet petals from the beds unswept
Like children unloved and ill-kept
Dreamed through the hours Two blue hydrangeas by the blistered door burned brown
Watched there, and no one in the town
Cared to go past it night or day
Though why this was they wouldn't say

But I, the stranger, knew that I must stay.
Pace up the weed-grown paths and down -
Till one afternoon - there is just a doubt -
Bit I fancy I heard a tiny shout -
From an upper window a bird flew out -
And I went my way.

poem by Charlotte Mary Mew
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In Truth I Like Aldo

i truth i like aldo
does this man exists?
that was the question
thrown by him to me
and he answered
such questions well
enough
he has a dimple
on his chin
grey curly hair
on his head
tall, not so dark,
smiling,
a not so big
tummy,
always with a coat
but without a tie
beside his
another older
friend

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet V

Until it happened, as such things will be,
That she, who had a proud man for her spouse
None the less loving that unloved was he,
Must bear a child, the heir to his high house.
Then Adrian left her. It was idle sorrow
Longer to wait a suppliant at her door,
Weeping the promise of a lost to--morrow
Which never could be his nor valued more.
And he was tired of tears and nightly needed
To feed his manhood's strength on stronger meat,
And neither word of hers nor vow he heeded,
Who was thus proved a daughter of deceit;
And he was wrath with her and womanhood,
And with himself, and chiefly wrath with God.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Women who dwell afar

Yes, I think after reading the posts
so steeped in mortal despair
and oozing with anguish

Like the women
slowly twisting
lilac stalks
who come and go
chatting aimlessly
of fashions
in this and that

They wander the halls
of gray anomie draped
In darkest aspect
hoping without hope
that their eye
will light
on what
they know not

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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The Physical Conscience

The moral conscience — court of last appeal —
Our word of God — our Heaven- sent light and guide —
From what high aims it lures our steps aside!
To what immoral deeds it sets its seal!
That beacon lamp has lost its sacred fire;
That pilot- guide, compelling wind and wave,
By slow, blind process, has become the slave
Of all- compelling custom and desire.

Not so the conscience of the body. This,
Untamed and true, still speaks in voice and face,
In cold lips stiffened to the loveless kiss,
In shamed limbs shrinking from unloved embrace,
In love- born passion, that no laws compel,
Nor gold can purchase, nor ambition sell.

poem by Ada Cambridge
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Sonnet I

Down the strait vistas where a city street
Fades in pale dust and vaporous distances,
Stained with far fumes the light grows less and less
And the sky reddens round the day's retreat.
Now out of orient chambers, cool and sweet,
Like Nature's pure lustration, Dusk comes down.
Now the lamps brighten and the quickening town
Rings with the trample of returning feet.
And Pleasure, risen from her own warm mould
Sunk all the drowsy and unloved daylight
In layers of odorous softness, Paphian girls
Cover with gauze, with satin, and with pearls,
Crown, and about her spangly vestments fold
The ermine of the empire of the Night.

poem by Alan Seeger
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A Churlish Thing

I sit and contemplate 'that' word
For the life of me.. I know not why
It is a word that sits uncomfortably
A stranger in a land laden with such thoughts.

'Love' is made of childish things
That once this mind new well
But now all too often it is my jailer
There to beat my life and soul into a cage.

I have 'loved' many things and people,
I have 'loved my life and family
But in reality what is love if it can't be true
Or in fact you are not true to love? .

I stand and take a bow to the points it has won
It pays me no respect or dues... nor i it
Save for children that love unconditionally
I am unloved. So be it. I am still me.

poem by Dave James
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I Will Go On

When I have set out on a journey to mysterious;
Pray that the road is long,
Full of adventure,
Full of knowledge;
And the destination a blessed one.

Why wonder?
Where I am going?
When I am going?
How I am going?
With whom I am going?
But, I am going,
And I will continue to go on.

To chart out the uncharted,
To map the unmapped;
To discover the undiscovered,
To like the unliked,
To care the uncared,
And to love the unloved.

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poem by Sanjeev Kumar
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: II

Yes, who shall tell the value of our tears,
Whether we wept aright or idly grieved?
There is a tragedy in unloved years,
And in those passionate hours by love deceived,
In lips unkissed and hopes too soon bereaved,
And youth's high courage which no strength could save,
And manhood's web of fate by folly weaved,
And grey--haired grief brought down into the grave.
Who shall distinguish truly and be wise
'Twixt grief and grief, 'twixt night and night? The sun
Has its own sorrow and a voice that cries
Louder than darkness of its joys undone,
And pleads with that exceeding bitter cry,
``I have tasted honey, and behold, I die!''

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Sorry

Sorry I could not be there

Open my face

Surround you with lies

Comfort hides in disguise

And these are the masks

We carefully wear

Worn down

We bear them

For every occasion

Births

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poem by Yvette Smith
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