poem

Questions

What does man say of his eminent death, when he follows his fate with a quavering breath? Does he mutter a truth to his comrade beside? Or swallow his fate as he grapples with pride? -Amy Struthers Image by: James Kovin

No One Asks About Blue

It’s assumed that of all of the colours, Blue’s the most misunderstood, for where Yellow is mellow and Green is serene, Blue is the absence of ‘good’. To some, Blue’s a feeling of sadness, hence why they say, ‘playing the blues’, but imagine what colours I’d sing of, if you spent one day in my…

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When the blind burn the world with the language of sight, how can they be sure that such torches are light? – Amy Struthers

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas

It began with a tree and a garden in the palm of an ardent Creator, who gifted the world salvation, before man had recognized his fall. Beauty among us. Truth before us. And in a moment, paradise lost. Until the hour, when upon a cross made of uprooted garden, He became the atonement for our…

Good Grief

Some say I’ve the demeanor of that Peanut they call ‘Chuck’, who seldom smiles, and travels miles, to test his lousy luck at getting with a red-haired girl, who barely bats an eye, at a boy who’d rope the moon for love to gift her bottled sky. This is the tale of the grief that’s…

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There’s a nail on the wall -tilted and pocked above some half-chalked sketch of a man paying no mind to the chrysanthemums. He, who makes no fuss about the lights being on or off, stills in the room that studies his window, and welcomes us with the same worn-out expression we oblige. Out of formality…

Prayer (A poem based on Adam Elsheimer’s ‘The Stoning of Saint Stephen’)

Based on Adam Elsheimer’s ‘The Stoning of Saint Stephen’. Prayer Lord, Repeat in us the assurance that this house is not our home, that no harsh word is without consequence, and that no trial stands without divine reason. When, rooted in our heart, the longing to pray for strength comes to the forefront of all…

Poem There once lived a young boy named Poem, who didn’t quite know how to rhyme, who fancied the fields and the flowers, his mom felt he’d sing of in time. Young Poem liked rowing and painting, and took well to Latin and Greek, Yet, for all that he grew, both in mind and in…

God or Man?

(Inspired by a Joe Tessitore photograph) “God or Man?” he asks of me, “That truth of which I’m told. Tell me if you can,” says he, “Which path does lead to gold?” “Of riches internal or outwards?” I ask. “Of wealth overflowing or small?” “Of that which will flower this desert” says he, “Of that…

Ages of Man

Ages of Man (a poem based on the “All the world’s a stage” monologue from Shakespeare’s As You Like It) Ages of Man Infant: Out of the pellucid womb, I grasp for reeds I can weave Schoolboy: into a song. Hoping by a smile of favor, I may play Lover: a fragrant note. Soldier:…