But this state of mind
is not self-chosen
but ****** upon
by life's myriad slings
of suffering
and indifference

the body and mind
are first buffeted
and later bruised and hurt
marks of pain are imbedded
like those branded
on the backs
of sheep and lambs
to stay and persist
to linger on and to violate
until life's last breath--

to be mortal
to be human
to feel
to hope
is to know Weltschmerz
sooner or later
few could such escape
seldom does its intensity
subside or abate

the monotony
the sameness
the chagrin
the weariness
the emptiness
the unchanging taste
of repeated experience
the brevity of joy
the hard knock of constant sorrow
on the weak and vulnerable door
of the heart, already shrinking
and sinking
the too-quick ending
of a love-song
and the night--kiss
vanishing
at the first peep
of the day's dawning

the unbearable thirst that's only
satisfied momentarily
but never quenched
soon enough the spring
dries up and the drought
sets in to aggravate--the despair
that returns to roost, hovering
ready for descending
on the self in quivering--

life has lost its meaning
living is but struggling
the moon has gone into hiding
the stars are tired of glittering
the tides are waning
the flowers are drooping
the trees are weeping
and love is farewelling--

Weltschmerz
the ultimate angst
that festers and invades
our total being.

Brevity bangs

Paul Butters

© PB 19\2\2021.

Sometimes where brevity is required, we elaborate
Where we need to elaborate, we rely on brevity
While altering the situations we get caught in crossfire

The scent of your skin, and it’s heat against mine. How every bit of me fit right in you, and you in me. The warm salty water of my tears just serves as a reminder of the brevity of our broadcast love. But your smell still holds me. And I still remember your warmth. And I know how I fit in you, and that your body was made for mine. And those briefest of moments were beautiful. They felt infinite. You felt infinite. And our love. Well that is most infinite of all.

My friends abroad think I'm peculiarly English
My English friends think I'm peculiarly northern
My northern friends just think I'm peculiar
But at least I've got friends

                                                     By Phil Roberts

Awkward silence
Vanitas still-life
Remembering I must die
Thinking about afterlife

Still-life painting
Symbols of death or transience
The same old story
Unique true glory

Attention to one more fact
I know I'm into this
I'm a part of everything
Even without feeling it

Memento mori
Painted bended blind
A friendly reminder
Coming across my mind

The brevity of human life
A proper masterpiece
No one can escape
Let it rest in Peace

Drawn on strings of moonlight visions are whispered in love notes and poetry
Future brushstrokes on the echoes of eternity
Enigmas in candid but if you look closely
Sun petals
Soft tempos
Giving solace and solstice to the sun-kissed and weary
Delicate and hardly above skylines and kiss me’s
Daydreams and the uncanny act of tripping on galaxies never lasts through the laughter and the sadness in the symmetry

Despite the next level of genesis in trinity
Stands the heretic consumed with the brevity of setting free
Amassed and exhumed the expanses of longevity
Sporadically bloomed now the tragic is ahead of dreams and shivers in the night
Unparalleled and strung by kites and carousels and river streams
Never made of sense in seems the abstract is the kin that breathes in metaphors and similes
Terraforms and then it leaves entranced within lost reverie

Such is love and loss and finding peace

And across the stars I’m still finding me

Flash of modesty
As he gets dressed in front of me
Fast hands and mismatched
Buttons
Hiding white skin and brevity

1
   effectless
                      hampering
                                           tongue is in the chattering molecule
of my dapper skull.
i hammer verbal clumsy spit into post nasal void
just likely
                  the stately emblem of young thoughts
and i'm new blood
     unwet tranquility
like the rain
       like the sun
           like the dry crevice
of clean filthy electricity
ramming carefully between my arms
the slight perfecting bodice of your
soft vehicle
and i placate it succinctly
by pink rinds
      slipperying on the wailing
cotton
             of you
most erratic brevity

Sometimes I get the briefest glimpse
A glimpse of a boy
Of a child
Of a man
I see a smile
Meant for me but accidental
I hear a laugh
Slip softly between warm lips
And I sigh
I sigh a sigh of contentment
For in the brevity of your laughter
I find peace
And in that instant
Your demons are swallowed by my love
They burn in their own breath
They wither in the warmth of my embrace
Yes, the child you left behind
Still wants to play
When you forget to be grown
When you let the world slip away
Finding that the past no longer exists
The future is still beyond reach
And in this moment
This perfect little moment
With me, you believe you can be happy
And you sigh....

I. nope.



II.
long-windedness verbosity
diffuseness prolixity
wordiness rambli­ng
circuity discursiveness
redundancy tautology
tediousness verbi­age
verboseness length
longevity permanence
garrulity windiness
v­olubility circumlocution
expansiveness babbling
periphrasis gushi­ng
blathering protractedness
waffling lengthiness
iteration repet­ition
prating prattling
jabbering digressiveness
dreariness tediu­m
deadliness wandering
repetitiousness repetitiveness
pleonasm co­nvolution
logorrhoea boringness
maundering superfluity
duplicatio­n tiresomeness
monotony reiteration
gabbiness informality
mouthin­ess diffusion
logorrhea wordage
blah-blah dryness
dullness boredo­m
sameness loquaciousness
talkativeness loquacity
freeness orotun­dity
roundaboutness breadth
gobbledegook gassiness
wittering mult­iloquence
perissology big mouth
gift of the gab garrulousness
staleness tallness

MARIO VITALE -DEAD PRESIDENTS
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Bio Of Mario William Vitale

The language and images of Mario Vitale's poetry are so closely bound to the natural cycles of seasons, of generations, of the body's functioning, that is surprising to realize how many of his poems deal with uprootedness. But this poetry is not sentimental celebration of the goodness of nature, and harmony with the world is never assumed. The way he captures the tenuousness of this faith, the balance that must be found between the ugliness, the harshness of his history- both natural annd social- and its intense beauty, is what distinguishes Vitale's poetry, gives it its depth and dimension:

Mario William Vitale Biography

I was born in 1970 Bristol hospital.
A young nurse took me in her arms and said that I would one day become a success,
As the years would pass I was heavy in the arts used to sing and act.
Was an altar boy at St. Pius Church.
In time I would act in my senior class play, "The Mystery Of Edwin Drood"
Where I had the lead role as the Narrator,
I touched many hearts with that performance in 1989,
Was hospitalized with mono that same year for two weeks long,
Also that same year I became prom king of my class Wolcott High School,
After the break up with my first grilfriend in 1989 I wrote the poem entitled, "Remembrance of a loved one" where I had it published on poetry.com
Attempted plays: Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade, (His poetic aspirations had derived at 18 in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)
Attended Central Connecticut State University For Creative Writing: 1997
Next from 1989-1997 (Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry) , * Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",
(1998)Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".
Back with rave reviews!
* (From 1999-2008: Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: (1999- Sent Editorial to:
New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie; Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,
* 2000-2007: Magazine: (Catholic)Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset!
2008- Wrote poem entitled: (The Heavy Cross)to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;

(The Connecticut Poetry Society) * Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia Writers Quarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.
Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return, Thankfulness toward family and friends.(To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted?
My contemporary artists include that of Ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and Carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry
Having been a member since 2006, My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and Edgar Allen Poe.
Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact
In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creative passion!
The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a very positive light.)
After experiencing a life transformation encounter.I had realized that poetry is my unique way to convey myself my work speaks from the heart with pure sentiments of though intact,

As the years passed I would write over 4,000 poems and 5 short stories toward my platform,
My poetry is based on the free verse style of writing,
Was published in 10 venues such as Writerscafe, Neopoet, Hello poetry, Poem Hunter, Booksie, Poetryvibe, Poetrysoup, Starlifecafe.com, Poets Know It & poetry.com...
I was saved by God at the tender age of nine in Charlotte Carolina where I came to know the Lord that was in 1979,
Today I continue to write poetry was published on Spillwords, High On Poetry, Tuck Magazine & Setu Magazine.
My main emphasis in writing poetry is to share with the mass populace touching many hearts.
Hope you can read my poetry.



Sea Stacks

skipped rocks through a stream today
the opening of a brand new day
its frame is in minor decay
the bleached wood massed in bone piles,
we pulled it from dark beach and built
fire in a fenced clearing
the posts' blunt stubs sank down
the circled and were roofed by milled
lumber dragged at one time to the coast
We slept there

Each morning the minus tide-
weeds flowed it like hair swimming
The starfish gripped rock, pastel,
rough. Fish bones lay in sun

Each noon the milk fog sank
from cloud cover, came in
our clothes and held them
tighter on us. Sea stacks
stood and disappeared
They came back when the sun
scrubbed out the inlet


Life Force

through the flame cover me
in silent sound dignity
for with what one is willing to achieve
valiantly
feel the breeze
nestled through the trees

shaped through your dreams
a piercing of the skin
new hearts to begin
again



Choices

Many have a hard time understanding
They live for self and that of society
They are the walking dead yet they don't even know it
Eyes with blackened spots having holes
Viscous fangs with blood dripping off the side
You share with them the truth
They choose to run away & hide
Yet deep inside they may still question
Why am i here ?
They can't even help you
Cause they won't help themselves
They are the **** of the land
Much too afraid to stand among the son of man
A bitter taste
Do they want salt or sugar coated messages
Positive reinforcement strengthens the heart
Negativity kills it
Each of us has been given a choice
We must lend a helping hand with a voice
All of us have been given a choice
Now which pathway will you choose ?


Emerald City
There’ll be no unemployment in heaven.
No worry about the next meal.
There’ll be no bills to harass us,
and thieves will not break in and steal.
In heaven, we’ll have no need for money;
Everything up there will be free.
We’ll enjoy God’s unsearchable riches,
and have unending security.
I’m looking forward to heaven,
that land that is fairer than day.
Where all will be joy and gladness,
and sorrow and care will flee away.
Up there, no mean words will be spoken.
Each heart will be filled with pure love.
We’ll never be hurt or rejected,
in the beautiful city above.
There will be no disappointment or heartache.
God will wipe all the tears from our eyes.
No one will ever be lonely,
and there’ll be no anguished good-byes.
Up there, the love we have for each other,
by each heart will be shared equally.
And we’ll have all the things that we’ve longed
for, and at last we will really be free


Little Angel

Hope springs a new
On a cloud in heaven
Stand a heavenly angel
With mere beauty of crystalized light
Golden emblems encrusted their frame
Sweet songs drifting to a very faint whisper
Eyes, hands & face
A real message sent down to earth
To care for those lonely souls all alone
There beauty is a surprise to encounter
Slipping through locked doors to appear
Many have shed a tear to numb the inner pain
Causing accidents not to happen
They appear in the form of brightened miracles
We see them with a heart all a glow
Come to the birth of a new born baby
Come to servicemen who just joined the navy
You will see them at a graveyard setting
Even among gamblers who do there betting
There all around us you see
For all of life is but a mystery






These Flames I Live
turn back the tear drop pillow
I'm sick to my stomach
suffering alone and hard
piercing cavity of viscious fangs that bite
illusive
impulsive
the rant

These flames I live
my right to forgive
undercover
beyond the means
living in a land of mean
barren sea

a shot in the dark
to light the spark

many are left in rebellion
what an incredible talent Vitale is
he is the poet of all poets
the moment you met him perfect ten

a chick lying with her hens
a quest...
flaws and failures
yes he wears Depends

a trip to the zoo nothing new


Laughter
Laughter fills the scented air
through days exposed
the timeless hour of a loathsome mast
expounded upon the cavity of debris

develop a grateful heart
that one may impart
look close through a pillar of glass
a vergence sea out beyond the interpass

a halo with a song
to help you get along
the sight of a fawn on the lawn
greed and materialism will crush out the light in your life

******* by the holy spirit
a heart change has to happen
one must be open to the message
care for your brother help for your pale sister

one ear on the floor
a cause for more
through fetters got it made to even out the score

Unending Brigade
I ask myself politely
what resistance flowers here
against love treaded lightly
or losing lovingness dear?

give cadence to the simple,
for I gave ammunition to the laughter
we should we ever falter
the timeless whisper of happening

golden nuggets of thought & inspiration
braids my hair with a great deal of wear
through the conclaves of love's fastened grip
shadows block the vortex to aid its message


The Dream Police
they come to my head
at the side of my bed
they are enforcing my sleep
give cadence to a treat
a far from ports unknown
like a dog without a bone
giving tickets to be enforced
every time I have a dream
forces scream


Of Time & Dreams
Father's gold pocket watch measured heartbeats,
times for surgery and the slow drip of an IV
all else in his life was overture
to main events, like birth and death
of those the family never knew

Steps from my childhood dreams to his were counted
in places where treasure were wet pebbles
and the pulse of life was seen in raindrops on the lake
now the watch is mine, and i yearn to throw it
like a pebble into the past,

to see it skip and yield to places we never shared,
like blue-green eddies near the shore
and grasses curled by the win
Yet, warming in my palm, the measurer of his days
seems to sing the music of turning points
where drying dreams meet others born anew,
emerging through images of caring
to rhythms more than metrical
that i've yet to understand



The Land Of Dreams
When you fall asleep at night,
your mind goes into an eerie flight
You can open the gate with the key of thought,
and don't have to do what you've been taught

You sing, and dance, and prance all day
and you act so happy and also gay
You run in circles and run into the trees,
and cut your elbows and scrape your knees

But sometimes you open the wrong gate,
and find yourself facing a terrible fate
There are monsters, ghouls and also grouches,
and then you wish you were on confortable couches

And when you're done and almost through,
your mind knows exactly what to do
you go back through that eerie flight
it may be day it may be night

And when your mind comes back to you,
you may wake up and have the flu
You could leave for school very late,
and find out that it's the wrong date

And you could play outside in the streams
but you will know that you entered "The Land Of Dreams."


Old Crow
Old crow
Tired and lazy' against the day
Dark skies
Lost in blacks and whites and grays
Howling north wind
Sure takes a man's fight away

Wastelands,
A dreamer's home on his best day
Hard rain
Drops the leaves and makes the colors fade
And talks cheap,
But for the words of time they'll ave the last say
Oh the words of time, they'll have the last say

And the harvest is in, it wasn't much
May I have enough to get by
The baskets were light, not a muscle ached
And somehow I feel I'm going to die
The winter is coming and the signs say hard
I've never seen such a haunting sky

For on the mountains, frost in the wind
And somehow I feel I'm going to die
Full moon
Lonely above the old oak tree line
Old crow
Hanging empty in the black sky
And a nighthawk
Circles her in silence as she flies
Old crow, all alone she flies


Pheonix
the blazing glory of a loving night
Disappears in the sun's bright morning light
All efforts to recall that glorious pain
Fade in the dawn to be sought in vain

but the memory clings of precious glory
that will not become an old, dull story
instead that memory promises anew
that love will spring forth and again renew

with every joining of two loving souls
again will emerge from the fading coals
a love renewed by the glowing embers
so that this night, too, will be remembered.


Soul Search
When I look into your eyes
I see the sunshine and rain,
The deeper I look and also see
Various kinds of pain;
I can see the kind, warm love that filters thru,
To surface at the top when you’re not blue,
I have seen and know your hopes and fears
The good and bad times you have thru years,
You have seen and felt so much
I’m glad our lives did touch
Look deep into my eyes and you will find
The heartaches and happiness that were also mine


Come With Me
Come with me and be my friend
Lets create a fantasy
just you & me
lets linger through the wind
and feel free
lets run through the sand
and make time stand still
so we can treasure this moment
Only until
The mystical ocean
touches our souls
and fills our hearts with love
come with me and I'll show you

What I have to give
come with and I'll describe
The life I dreamed we'd live
come with and hold me gently
and watch the retiring sun slowly set
Shower me with all your love
pretending we just met
Whenever you need me
I'll be there
To help lift your spirits
and I want to care
About you
come with and be my love
no longer a fantasy
just you & me
This time only
A reality...


Mario William Vitale. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform.

Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson.
Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct.
Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet

Personifications Of Oceanic Thoughts
whispers
sun lit morn
the surf hits the turf
smells of salt air through the moment
savor each moment as the memory lasts
bask in the vast expanse between time & space


sounds of children playing
seaweed next to the rocks along the cobblestone walkway
solace torn up in the derision of peace with solidarity
we were made for moments such as these
seagulls flock overhead

remember me in thoughts as these
whisk through the breeze
capture one's inner sense
alas with angelic fervor permeates a flame of life's torn reality
a new to face the day


Follow Your Heart
Magic breathes life in our hearts
Destiny resides in our souls
Our path now shimmers unshadowed by the night
With one embrace partnered by a tender kiss, the bounds

of time and distance crumble through fingers like drifting
grains of sand
Dream time is the place where I am alive
Green eyes ripple into lipid pools where miracles draw me

to your heart
I am free to swim by your side until the sun sets and
rises with you again
Life is my dream

I love you



Cynthia
When at night I close my eyes,
to think all the days gone by,
to feel again those passions past,
and feeble joy that never lasts,

I'm always drawn to thoughts of you, my only love my Cynthia
I think I found you in a dream then we celebrate,
the night I pressed beyond the seam,
where fantasy and reality meet

in summer mist so soft and sweet,
But you were all I ever felt, my deepest love, my Cynthia
But dreams just last within the night, when morning came,
Her soul took flight

I awake to find Her never there
She passes like the misty air
To leave me longing and alone, my painful love,
my Cynthia

Enigma love you swell the heart,
to crush the same when lovers part
But whether love and joy you bring
or bitter pain and Death's cold sting

I plead you come to me again, my final love,
My Cynthia


For My Precious Son
You're standing in the doorway.
Your workday is all done.
He waits to see you everyday,
this boy that is your son.

He hopes you will go fishing.
He hopes you'll shoot the gun.
He just wants to be with you,
this boy that is your son.

He is your spitting image.
To him you are ''The One''.
He hopes to be just like you,
this boy that is your son.

You show him what a man is.
You teach as you have fun.
You are admired as well as loved
by this boy that is your son.

You've got a friend forever.
Until the world is done.
Then, still you will be holding
this man that is your son.

I'm Just A Poetical Lyricist
I’m just having fun, but no doubt someone will take this serious
I’m about to take you on a lyrical experience
I’m having fun with words, like when a baby first starts reading books
Saying I’m good at rhyming, Is like saying Mike Tyson packs a decent punch
I best mention the Kardashians other wise you’ll have trouble keeping up
Me with a pen is more dangerous than Michael Myers on Halloween when he starts slashing with the knife
Telling me I can’t rhyme, is the biggest mistake you’ve made since you let your ex Back in to your life
Speaking of exes, will someone please date mine
I promise she’ll give you a great time
I’ll pay for the date, its all on me
All I ask, is please be good enough to get her to stop calling me
I love Hip Hop, and yeah I know I’m white
Please be creative and tell me how I’m the new Vanilla ice
Or how I should walk right back across 8 mile
I could have thrown this into my waste pile
But I just wanted to write some joke lines and have some fun
Sick of hearing rappers talk about drugs and how they pack a gun
“yeah I’m Bad. I’ll make this *** Squirt”
You don’t know who Nas is, And think the greatest rapper is Lil *** Vert
Or some other mumble rapper with lame rhymes
You deserve to have Biggie and Big Pun sit on you at the same time
Some guy called Young **** is wearing dresses
That’s not something I have a problem with
My problem is
There’s so much going on in the world and these rappers are scared to address it
What happened to Hip-Hop when rappers would share a message?
Nas, Big Daddy Kane, Slick Rick, I could name so many more
Now its a bunch of dudes who sound the same with empty thoughts
I’d pretend to be from the hood and blast guns but I’d fail
I’d rather be the real me, and I’m far too cute to go to Jail
I just love Hip Hop and the way it used to be
You always get the truth from me
someone tell Rihanna I’m ready to give her the best 30 seconds of her life
Tell her she’ll only regret it if I become a legend when I die
Knowing she could of had me
This is my last piece of paper, I’m now pad free
I was watching rap battles on YouTube, So took you on this lyrical experience
I’m just a poetical lyricist

Rapula
back in the day where hustlers stayed there were those very afraid
he was born in the gutter his momma was a vamp selling her junk in the trunk of a car
up all night slept all day he was blown from the frey
viscious fangs that bite two turn tables with a mic insisted on a fight
******* the innocent patrons for blood right in the hood like you knew he would
Rapula the man, the myth & the legend
could very often see him in the back of a seven eleven drinking red slurpees

took folks block by block like giving him a heart attack just to fit his mold
no one came against him until that day in the crib Rapula lost his lobster bib
very often you will see him at the 8th Street Station spinning his records
there will never be another blood ******* brother so move over he's taking cover
Rapula wore a high hat tip on his temple driving a white Benz looking like Baretta


I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me
Supernatural
but it's so true
the world hasn't a single clue
borrowed basement pews
stained glass windows
a reflection of the cross
some will go before the toss

he was there from the beginning
he is the only one that's winning
perfumed stockings and a breath of fresh air
the willingness to share how you really care
if you have seen him you have seen the father
Jesus

Stop The Madness
All of sudden reality happens
Ruining my mind that's already jumbled
"where the hell did i just go?"
I ask to myself no one listens
Obsecurity is still in me
Recognizing situation where i have been
Looking up the sky it's already dark
Worrying something, i need to get up
Home, i need to find home
Stepping forward to pass the crowd
The longer i go, the quieter it's so
Taking my glasses off because its fogged
Focusing my lens but the blur shows
sigh
Now melancholy does it again
Lack of knowledge about locations
Lack of someone to be asked for
And there is no light to guide me on
Vision, direction, companion
I wish i could make them clearer
But in reality, they just disappear

Shaman Within
I met a dead poem in the shade of spring.
I was so sad I could hear the door bell ring

through the furtherance of a smile I became unglued
shadows block the motive bruised.

Beyond the sky set flight

Prison Of The Mind
able to be smart without words
its a topic of conversation
through words spilled out on the ancient path
meditate
lights out
beg, ***** & pout
the underscore read stop
I'm keeping on keeping

transfused and weeping
table talking
swallow its extremities
move the levee
strong will survive
thank God I'm alive
the moments the solitude alone

vibrations fixed temptations
sensations...
take me to the prison
three squares a day
a pillow and I pray
nestled the mood away

Getting Ahead Of God
hearken onto the voice of a still small way
let God show you the new found way
look deep into the cause of wisdom seek the shelter
God give the children right parents to help bring them up

you never miss out in obeying God
when you start off in life without God your in the wrong direction
God will tell you what he wants you to do if you ask him to
your life will be filled with joy, peace & happiness

the issue is its not your age but what is the will of God for your life
God always has your best when we wait on God
you can't tell by the way it works by the way it counts
you may have get by in life but you must deny yourself

people have to go through disaster before you surrender your life
each time we take a leap of our own choice we lose
out of the will of God you'll be disapointed
the issue is what does God want for your life

he acts on behalf on the one who waits on him
you can't get God's guidance if your living in sin
happiness, joy, peace & satifaction are very valuable
you made some choices but God will forgive you if you repent for them

its a decision we make if we confess our sins he is faithful & just to forgive us
it is a choice you make
remember you reap what you sow
you can't avoid or escape the things of your soul

whether your 16 or 67 its time you made a decision and surrender to God
I pray that every person that hears this message will stop to think of what they have done in life

Take It All In
God is a closer friend
come back to New England
plants, rocks, shrubs & things
suddenly I'm waiting here for you

it's a tick or take Sunday afternoon
waiting by the rocks they surface with untimely leaves
the leagues plagued with devastation
the beef stock through the goldie locks of here hair

Summertime is no better time
got this crazy feeling
I'm so glad that your feeling for me
with your heart you can unite the heart


Changes
a smile from a lonesome child
transformed through the eyes
the timeless cavity unleashed
through diverse port of space in time

the child in time grew now in there teens
sees the world through a fine tooth comb
at home being alone the horrific scene
through adolescence its a coincidence

now as an adult able to leap tall buildings with a single bound
the smile deminishes onto sophistication
almost a loose cannon
pronounced news to its folly

cover me with those tender leaves
falling from the stream let loose on my caboose
the stars all glitter in the darkness of night


Pilgrims Progress
We need great golden copulations in the cemetery
bury your head beneath the limbs in part of a ghostly resolve
perhaps this was the path Brother Lawrence tred alone
underneath the interpass of denial of speculation

we have nursed path each quatrum with a deafening blow
to stand in one accord to each other as pilgrims rest after harvest time
Apple butter jam spread on fresh home made bread
the reflections of a timid squirrel on a limb

we have become immeasurable by your smile
she danced in a ring of fire yet throws of each challenge with a shrug
the cost of the pilgrims progress we shall never know
bust up the beat to promote its tempo

a beacon of light to a much hurting world in search of love
Does death hurt you the most or is it fear
beneath the timeless swell I live to tell
sought through the variation to its cosmic flame

Careless Whisper
a shoulder tender shelter to lie next together,
the swelter of a careless whisper left tempted
shelter lies dormant onto its beckoning plough
to thirst united with the throne

billow with asps of the new day's pride
thank God I'm still alive
to delve into the ridges of each dishes
kisses

the torment of each smile
bruisded reed tmpered on its poll
the thought of vanity
among humanity

the faint of your legacy

Spirit To Touchdown
Ten years since her husband's death
she still craved the sight of him and
his magnetic smile
coming in the door, his suitcoat
slung over his back. She yearned to
glance at him in a long black
coat, resembling a materialized
laser beam, as they
prepared to go out for an evening,
or in old bluejeans walking barefoot
with her on the seashore.
She knew he was always with her...
but wanted his spirit to touchdown

My Elephant
There is something about the Elephant I love very much,
I wish I could cuddle him but I know I cannot,
if they be my friend, I will play soccer with an Elephant on my side,
I will catch hold of his trunk and he’ll trumpet me to victory with pride.

There is something about the Elephant I love very much.
Although he is so big, he won’t give you a fright,
He lifts up his trunk and blesses you instead,
So different from the Lion and Tiger you meet,

There is something about the Elephant I love very much
He is a pure vegetarian, he won’t **** a mouse,
He is worshiped as God for all his good vice.
If we were to crown the king of the jungle again,
It will go to the Elephant our vegetarian friend

Proud To Be An American
I’m proud to be American
To live In a country that’s free
And we’re free to be who
We want to be!
We’re always
Free to try
New things.
And enjoy every
Experience that
Life may bring!
And I was taught
To stand up for what
You believe in
And never give up
On your hopes
And dreams
Because the sky
Is the limit!

Beach Canopy
The smell of fresh fry doe
Time had elapsed playing at the casino
Fresh lobster with a side order of fries
Those spacious wonderful sky's
Down at the shell the continental were playing
A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting
Flip flops and the sound of laughter
A playground for kids in the middle
The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head
Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer
Love We Go
through the sweet vortex of our inner frame
we can dream of far off places with kings and queens
shaped through the fragments of are exploits
someday you will be all alone in your room
there you will read a text to reflect upon your life
we each are on a journey in this life
some ponder the existence of God
other reflect in the day to day toil
love is the mere essence of are existence
shine your inner light upon the twilight hour

shadows block the mere reflection of my frame
not having you in my arms is driving me insane
lest I refrain another door by which to explore
there is so much more in this game of life
within its given strife we can learn
one soul soars and another will soon burn
we better wait are turn in this wheel in the sky
the faint lulabye in its scope
Elvis In Vegas
Viva Viva Los Vegas
he came alone with a guitar in his sack
romance with the dice
he's giving back

a whole host of onlookers looking upon
he waves his magic wand
with a favorable song
swivel hips stand tight in his sticks

Elvis
Fun House
a blade of grass blown in the wind
heros have erected its course
leading folks away from divorce
in times of remembrances
thoughts shattered in the wind
coming apart at the seams

a brigade of thoughts
What is a funhouse ?
It is when the eyes of all are upon you
It's not so, but when you go through it is true

The funhouse is a form of torture where everything unravels around you
It is a commotion of nervousness and you just want to hide from all that is around you
It is a secret that you don't want to share, but there is one who helps just by saying I care
It's not what you say it is what you do

When you enter my world of the funhouse, you assure me that God is in control
that with him I don't need to be afraid
It's the gentle way in which you talk when once you have entered into the realm of commotion...
It's the assurance of your sincerity that softens the blow
Soon with your special way the inner strife goes away
A Thief in The Night
Jesus
he that hath an ear let him hear
when all was said to be good
let it be said calamity

have you ever been down to the lowest pit
you look around and no one gave a ****
By His Hand
through long lines of being transformed to clean my room
in the late month of June we move too soon
we remain vital to the oncoming spirit of the game
filtered through those tiny reasons to spice up the season
the God Lord up above has carried us by his hand
Poison Ivy
there are pillars being built
for those who pusue the chase
we each are in a battle
some have retreated at death's door
lest I implore something more
a quaint visitation with your higher power
in a world torn up in misery & sorrow
hiding behind a false hidden garb of compromise
can't we easily see through those twised lies
yet we embark on a new journey of are own
having a house but living all alone
out in the street where people meet
had a gun at my head thought i was really dead
out of devastation I reached right for the bottle
like having a gun in hand to release its throttle
the world is in misery torn
some insist to curse they very day they were born
eyes to see but can't
hears to hear but won't
there's a true lesson to be learned
one soul soars while the other soon to be burned
we must all wait in line for are turn
each of us will have a day in the sun
now I'm off on the run
searching through pictures to put on my wall
to stand ten feet tall amidst the social resistance
join in now I must insist this
casualties are enormous
for a stated cause that's plain atrocious
have we taken the time out to notice
yet many of us have given up way to easy
caught in a rut in are society
out of desperation there still is a plan that we can see
someday be fulfilled as a reality
if we only believe one will be set free
Break Away
break away to a brand new day
perfect display we come to pray
faint sounds of grandeur
right down to the wire

share with those you have heard
Thirst
thirst after the water that has been spoken
look deep beneath the vines of realization through thought and mind
breath deep inside let your breath go complete
with words of heightened anticipation

go deep upon deeper be the keeper of the gate call it fate
the twist and turn of the music to loose it
the world spins like a top
negotiate your buyer

sweet songs of praise
sweet moments raised
in a time well spent in thought
the spinning wheel stop just like a top
remember me in times like these
sheltered through the breeze crushed upon the leaves
in midnight hour with pulse through the flame in moments of granduer
sharpen your arrows to calm the breeze nestled to your knees
cultivated with a smile to know all the great while
a helmet for the passing fawn the bear from its nap with a yawn
in columns of portals sprinkled dust in the wind
the habitation of a needle visible through the shadows

remember me in times like these
through the training of the leaves taunt the moment
an explosion until sunset the bill of sale
A Gun For Hire
there is a direct correlation between time & space
scented across your universe base
the climb to approach the summit peak
with words do you seek

famous qoutes and pictures for your desire
coming down to the wire
a gun for hire
Beyond Her Tea- Blurred Vision
The powerful voice of loneliness is screaming through her mind of twisted halls,
All too painful to hear, she absorbs them into her cotton ball walls
But, beyond her tea-blurred vision and through her pounding heart

She hears the voice inside her that is worse
than a dagger through her heart
Her shadow's darkest moments are filled with hopeless pride
And her tongue tied conscience is all whom she has to confide

But the rose that is trying to bloom, within
her salty hand, will never wither, and never be taken away,
Because this, and this alone, is
what keeps her going day by day

the embrace...
Shelter From The Storm
outside violence
inner silence
shadows now block the vortex
spaces for places & midnight traces
coming apart at the seams
jelly beans

breath deep my pale sister
confide my shady brother
undercover as lovers
sign so simple the *******


shelter from the storm
curse the very day you were actually born
a world that turns
suffer inside the place to hide


let go of any ambition
what are you *******
cap the cosmic clap
faces in the window having storms in the night
Celebrate In Twilight
the crimsome tide
we all want to run away & hide
although we suffer inside
enter through the canopy of a velvet song

lines drawn in the sand
when to understand
give yourself away
take heed to pray

no cornerstone
no bridge unknown
through the sunlit ravine
The Knight Of The 1,000 Eyes
softly now faintly
ode to the serpent's tale
dismiss the dread to reclaim its saga
in darkened dungeons fit for conquest
come away for a rest
most of life is but a test

treasure the mantle to the I am presence
delve into the sacred flames within your heart
enter the center of your being pull back on yourself
a still small voice within you saying be not afraid
I am here I am your heart I abide in the holy temple in the center of your being

you have climbed through mountains you have found me after a very long trek in the darkness of human misery
I am the pressence that looks through your eyes
the knight will rise of the 1, 000 eyes
filtered through the shame
who are we to blame
infinity is my measure
you beloved heart belong to me let us be one once again
allow the shell of outer human pass away

I will be the service to life that passes through you
do not accept as real to what is in the outer world
fear not I am the life inside your heart
I am inside you together we must intoduce ourselves onto the world.
A Gripping Fairy Tale
long ago let the truth be told
in a city far far away
lived a young hobbit who drank
there was woods to hide his visitation

a taste of hungry exoneration
A fare maiden was on the throne
ruling her army from the barren city
enclosed was a message of honor

high off traction from the waiting pool
the kingdom was now silent
These Words
these words are wrapped among a cordial smile
cemented like glue for what are we to do
come now let us leave the door opened,
a demonstration of trust in a world in quite a bit of a rush

the door swings wide to the enforced way
a beautiful flower display
ample time to pray
therefore everything will be o.k.

the knock on the door
lest I implore
a distant shuttter of languished circumstances
with a heart that's been renewed

these words stand still amidst the night's appeal
the even keal behind the spinning wheel
trust is completely most like a seagull off the coast
a reason to really trust
Surfing The Internet
Today I'm on point smoking a fat joint relaxing basking in the ambiance of the hour
folks need to take a cold shower as they admire the scented perfume through the room
we have become combersome with this world as a child as if you never really heard
Leonard Cohen with his famed song "Suzanne" really makes you think about life.
Through the negative light of affliction we have every bit of reason to be standing chosen
yet we have are back against the wall when all attempts of standing ten feet tall,


Each of us has a reason to discuss the mere notion of love sent from up above
Rat *** tat tat on that *** no one gets by on any free pass we need to make are way
look to your neighbor for any favors we can all learn to trust & savor
Each new moment that comes along with a fast paced moving vibrant song
you unleashed the inner lion in me with a whole host of chemistry

Surfing the internet may not be your thing but prayer can unleash the fires within
storms of life come to either make you or break you whats news for you might not be for you
life is like a jagged edge roller coaster with its twists and turns
one soul soars while the other one burns just wait your turn
Empty Leaves
onto the seventh hour of the seventh sun
beckon to rule the new day's dawn
the lovely fawn sitting on the lawn
vibrations to great temptations

captivated by a smile
to know all the great while
the wilderness beckons a response

of wild beasts among us
Light Brevity
thoughts of brevity about the city
stay close to me a whole host next to me
got rhymes of choice stretched to the opened door
the willingness to be explored

stand firm in the wheel chair you know my condition
to what I've been dishing
kissing
twisted stereo lies by the bars swift no surprise

captivated by her smile
still to know all the great while
as if a little child
faith pierced the scene

eating fantastic cuisine
the turning of the page
is it safe to ask you your age ?
the band played on
Agatha The Princess
she was on the throne
far away from her home
uniting hearts to ne fond heights
carrying herself with a song

Agatha the princess
will lose their influence
soaring to new frontiers
left her to tears

took walks in her garden
beautiful flower display
led to thoughts to pray
with tears in her eyes

came as a big surprise
delicate hue wth borrowed lies
she walks the flats on the lonely pier
rapers and dishes she would hide
leave behind

the careless whisper
a shoulder to cry
the soft cascading vamp
shine on her eyes

to beg or even borrow
moments of sorrow
to cleave to her young
the living stone

have we just begun
Back To The Front
plunged into uncertainty
the quest to be a want to be

shining on mental enhancement
there's joy in the progress

smoke on my ceiling

highway of what I'm dealing
******
bang bang shoot shoot
you took my nephew Shane
let me be the first to explain
Shane used to live with us so long ago
until he shot up ****** he died in are house

such a dark force
it starts with a promise to relieve
then one gets too deep
falling apart at the seams

beg, borrow & steal
for your next fix to even the deal
some take it with a needle others snort it up their nose
but do you suppose there's always a shipment coming from Rhode Island

dodge the bullet feel the passion why am I asking
****** scores a perfect 10 in the mind of an addict
it takes your body then your soul
engulfed in flames bust up the beat to promote its tempo
Soft Parade
the tear drop fell from the ceiling
no matter what I'm dealing
the ocean has a delicate spray
through loose lines let it go

time well spent in thought
through the day springs hope
left nestled on its undertow
the stereo swell

basking in the hour of belief
sorted flowers in its incredible epitaph
The Waiting Suspense
there are pillars
in doorways
loosed to become forgiven
loose engine
the pulsating of a river
where is the trigger
gets bigger & bigger
Destination Excellence
the thought of letting go
a far to time before
waiting to explore
the opened door

life can be quite a bore
the longing for more
road up ahead
avoid the living dead

thoughts inside my head
The Arms Of Rap
into the arms of rap that's where its at buiding through the confusion in fusion
got flames coming out my baseball cap I'm in need of a nap keep close to the doorway
fresh rhymes I'm still on time you maybe brave see me at the arcade park my Benz in back
folks tend to over react but I tip my hat got news for you all bridge the gap know what's up

Chilling at the grill with my girl sporting heavy studs think that I'm in love you see
there's brilliance in a piece mark the ege of my teeth stand still & repeat
bars watching souped up body kit cars looking to the stars a view from Mars
Pina Colada does anyone grow fond of Starsky & Hutch another push

grasping with tender faith in my hand when will folks understand stick it to the man
years have passed still having every reason to grasp the solitude in that I'm still in a good mood...
Feeling high anxiety got folks sitting next to me living out my legacy of what I used to be
Sipping my favorite sauce to the max you tend to over react got to stay in the zone

Summer time boogy time get your cash and stand in line frozen in time
Through a variation of a dream peeps do scream eating delicious ice cream
Souped up high hat as if in a tempo taking you places that you need to go
playing a little Spanish fly i got words by the fly your my favorite guy

on my human side stand still I'm happily alive got to put first things first
this is how i flirt got words for Lavert put back your gold in a purse
Trump is getting busy but he makes me awful dizzy better listen to Thin Lizzy
they say i'm institutionalized but I got words from the hive it's best to dream big
Let Yourself Be
A reflection I will be, for today
I looked into a mirror and much to my surprise,
what I saw was all deep, deep, inside...
There it was, all exposed, the inner me

right down to my very soul alarmed, shocked, and surprised, what
I saw wasn't really me on the outside
What have I done ? Where did it go wrong ?
Why isn't the inner me the same as the outer soul ?

Then I could see way beyond it isn't just me, but everyone.
Life is a fairy tale to most for the really don't accept the Holy Ghost
If all would look within their self, and
see the person that is there,

open up your heart, let it out
don't pretend, just be proud, for the person
you really are, is just what God wanted
for he created you as he chose

Don't fret, or whine, just be proud, life's riches you will surely find
Now when you look at me, a mirror you will see
for when you look at me, what you'll see is the inner me
For I am the mirror of the real me

To everyone in life who feels they are not special,
you really are, you see, for God made you that way,
if you'll only let yourself be...

Sun-bleached and fluttering,
a butterfly weaves around us.
“I wonder who that is?”
The sun bursts from Grandmother’s face.

By summer she had passed.
Everything was yellow, golden,
like pages from old hymnals.
Hazy sunlight passes through stained glass
and lands there on her face.
“Why are you crying? She’s right here.”

Cross-legged in the shade
of a spiraling cypress tree,
I say hello again.
Sunbeams pierce through
leaves and reflect off her
iridescent wings
and I know she’s at peace here in my palm.

The brevity of a butterfly.
The perfect vessel
for a wandering spirit.

The scream that cannot be heard
The anguish untold
Flesh and blood: A humoured existence
Only the lonely
Only the abstract
Only the memories
Comfort me.
I am blinded by truth
So stark and unforgiving
I am struck down
Down in a hole
A deep pit of my making
And I cannot get out.

Under marmalade skies
over sands swept whirling,
midst the wind of one night
I learned my Rome was burning

While the flames sneaked higher
I trudged forth like some cattle,
looking onto the horizon
when under my nose
Rome burned in the shadows

Smoke danced to the moon
but first ran through my eyes,
clearing my vision
memories crashed back like the tide

Now under the moon
she was new and enticing,
the way that city smiled at me
was beautiful
but fueled by brevity
like lightning

Quick flashes of maybe
her lips and story made me
see the glass as half full

I bore the weight of that city
under the moon,
now her presence is an obstacle

I used to speak
simply to hear her voice,
but now unprovoked silence
and no chance to make a choice

Under marmalade skies
I learned that Rome was burning,
even as she led me away with smiles
masked fires were churning

Over sand swept whirling
her ashes play through the beac,h
through the rain
through the lightning
shared memories grow deceased

All that's left of my city
is a shell.
and in its grain I see her face,
I throw her into the bay
wishing I found the spark
that made my city now erased

Facile flirtations
Sighs and sorrows
The depth of brevity
Sonorously sinking
Rising slowly
Washed by the rain
Drifting
The swollen ocean
Rolling, pounding
An avalanche of sound
Cascading, sublimating.

Waiting for that creaking sound of girls hostel
he waited for the entire night thinking of the day to blossom.
Devastation of those unlatching tensions
revolutionized his dreams
which were burnt alive
by those thunderous storms of love.

He remember that old odor of her tears
mingled with cosmetics on her face
whose fragrance almost demanded
unpredictable love
to which he bowed with his heart.

Breezy winds flew
as unintended emotions brewed out
materializing the enlightenment that i feel in love
wetting the brevity of my poetry with those wet dreams!

Hypnotized by the lavished love
which tuned frequency of my intolerable heart
instantiated
my vocal cords to reverberate in a different passion
in a musical way...in the direction of wind
trying to make it resonate with nature

I LOVE YOU

Love is a recycled word,
used and resused in time and again.
Love like so is that of a chliche,
brief and ultimately unfelt.

It is through its brevity that
we discover that it is all but
what it says it is.

Love is instead chaotic,
that which blurred lines
between affection and hatred
fuse into one and engulf you whole.

No one understands this more
than the veteran lover.
Whose heart has been broken and
torn and kissed together all over again.

This is loves sweet embrace.
It is vicious, passionate, understanding,
and complete insanity.
It is the turmoil that can give us purpose.
It is the purpose that will give us turmoil.

And I surrender to it.

The ocean tried to bear the sun,
And with brevity
It caught aflame-
It lit the world on fire.

But water is not made to burn.
So rose the Titan,
So came the day,
So crashed the waves away.

And it sung, and it sung, and it
Fell from the sky

But to see a star crawl from the sea
Will leave a mystery:
Who, far away, is there to greet the sun,
Before it returns to me?

Perhaps no one waits, like me,
And it lays to rest-unaccompanied.

Surely, though, another sees!
Another soul rejoices,
To see a giant fall from high
Like heaven to its knees

And if no love for him remains
Always will there be-
An ocean, in some reverie,
To swallow up the Sun.

Miss Arab World – Arabic's Official
National Beauty Pageant (Arabic: إنتخاب ملكة جمال العرب‎)
is a beauty contest in the Arab World.
The contest seeks to select the Arab
girl that best represents her country
based on traditional Arab customs
and traditions. Saudi Arabia and the definitions
of the adjective or the Arab people.
So that when the first to the border of the lands
of the Arabs from the Arabian Peninsula
in the externals of Seminational
was able to pacientur or the squalid places,
with stiffs in many places
in the Middle East, and Africa,
inhabiting the north. Heretofore, the plan
is to have no leader but also in the North African
French Arabs of the Arabian horses.
It can also be a reality together,
and the Arabs to respond to them.
Examples in other words;
seven eighths parts of the old Palestine Arab states,
especially Syria and Jordan but it's almost 300 years,
whereupon they shook hands, the Arabs,
which with the deputies of diverse nations,
they began to burn with fire,
after which there has been a fire,
the deceitful man shall not
find grain, but the substance of these precious
beans are better. Here's a part of the public
health magazine founded in the year
of the Arabs and Jews in Jerusalem
and the run on the doctors. It is one
of a few problems in the hands
of the Arabians to the speaker.
Also, Arab sailors returned back with
shiploads of handicrafts from India.
Putting off from here and seeing
the beautiful big blob of silver, and the Arabic ******.
The Arabians to the army of the tribe
of the Turks in the former siege of the enemy,
this can be increased to a robber,
the Express to Bangladesh to restrict the cities of the past
and of the Arabians, absolutely.
The main markets are Germany,
Austria, Italy, France, the US and Arab countries.
But even those who were on the left wing
to the left on the continent, it is not out of Africa -
which is neither a nor the banter of the south
and of the vale, Arabic, toward the north side.
Ambassador returned from Alexandria
to explore the fourth Arab tarboosh
in a red dress. This is the truth, as seen from friends
and of what was to be reduced in the interests
of brevity and of the Arabians,
that they should not say in every case.
In Iraq mountains the Arabs are not legendary,
literature and culture in Frankfurt, by the way.
Egypt trip is the same authority tries to
"understand what is Arabesque.
One day some high Arab unity
and Arabs negatively affect them.
The carved out Germans, Slavs,
Roman Arabia, but also others.
When orientalists changed the way people
see Islam, Arab and the Middle East.
But he has venerable States
and other Middle East and vice versa;
nearly 300,000 North Africans in the heat
for example through the cake ranks
of the Free French. he also cannot attune
to Arab force then to receive them.
for example, the Palestinians like other Arabs,
not Hebrew even though most of the Muslims
and many people are Christians. Assyrians
in the region long before the British,
the Ottomans, Arabs and Kurds. 1 am inside
a share of the ignorant opinions are convincing
Western European nations that Arab
in the Middle East is equally exporting
sand to the Arabs - or whether to sell
the Scots haggis. 711 dramatically invasion
of Europe is in the pen separated from the rest
of the island, on some of them and the Arabs
and the Berbers of North Africa and to their gates.
Henceforth not only to the emperor,
that he was visited by the immortal gods
among you and it is also related to the complexity
of the genera use of which is in the Ministry
of Civil North Africa, the Arabic and the toughness
of the hide and rests upon the painted ages of Arabia,
and of the Arabians by far the most thoroughbred
are done. Miss Arab World - Arabic to Arab
miss the Miss beauty contest in the Arab world.
In a contest that asks the person to choose
the best girl in the Arab region on the basis
of traditional Arab customs and traditions.
Arab World - Arab state and the public posture;
national contest struggle, the mass of the Arab world,
Arab elite competition is beautiful.
There is a competition to choose the best girl
in the Arab region, according to Arab tradition.
Eastern birds, but refused to defend his plans.
Thousands of horses in Mexico and Mexican cities,
and a group to join in asking the Indian vice
chairman for photos of the gardener,
and into a taxi and finally the candy to Sinai,
the pillar of the water, or that the musical,
the Forum and the Miedusa for the most part
young people, a child, to Aristotle Benjamin
of the garden. Four smoke. In short,
the report shows that there were hundreds
to exercise care to protect yourself
from harmful computers. ::: Saudi Arabia,
Canada, at the end of the golden age.
There is a real story to tell and South Zarkarov,
Latvia, Barbados in Bulimia. In Kenya,
the world's gold and blue world,
the ship began 10 years ago.
Newspapers and magazines.
American Vertebrata is "bad".
Igor sleight away. And because of his flesh. . .
Cats, oceans and seas, from Ireland
to the databases drinking games
in the US and Saudi ...
Saudi Arabia and the Arab adjective
or from definitions. Is the term of such circumstances
as with the first result in the earth
and they were in external things,
and the Arabs out of Arabia,
was able to Seminational pacientur,
on the squalid places and in the neck
of the large number of places in the Middle East,
and Africa in which is the seat of the north.
Hereforth is not their leader, but also in the North
African French Arabs of the Arabian horse.
It can also be about one thing,
the Arabs have to respond to them.
Examples in other words, seven eighths
parts of the old Arab states in Palestine,
especially Syria and Jordan but it's almost 300 years,
whereupon they joined hands, the Arabs,
which the deputies of divers nations,
they began to pass through the fire and burn,
And after him, there was not a fire;
a deceitful man and deceitful men shall not find gain:
but the substance of the precious beans are better.
This is part of the public health magazine founded
in Arab and Jews in Jerusalem run by doctors.
There is a developer with a few Arab speaker.
Also, Arab sailors returned back shiploads
of handicrafts from India. Having divested
themselves of silver and for the Arabs
on the one side it's great to see the beautiful blob.
For the tribe of the Arabs, the Turks,
the former siege of the enemy,
the army of the Bangladeshi.
The cities of the restraint of the past,
the expressions of the Arabian
who is a robber, q can be increased.
The main markets are Germany, Austria,
Italy, France, the US and Arab countries.
But the man who is to the left
of the horn of the continent of Africa -
which is neither a, north to the south
and the lowlands of various and theirs to the north.
Alexandria, the ambassador returned
to explore the fourth Arab tarboosh in red dress.
This is not to say the truth, all of his friends,
and of the Arabians to the use to be reduced
in the interests of brevity.
Iraq mounts high, the Arab is legendary,
and culture in Frankfurt literature, by the way.
Egypt, on the authority tries to
"understand what is Arabesque.
One day, up Arab unity and Arab negatively
affect them. Cælator Germans Slavs in
Roman Arabia, and others. Since Orientalist
and others changed the ways of the people
of Islam in the Arab Middle East.
But he was the venerable Cælator
of the States of the Middle East,
and vice versa nearly 300,000 in the North
African heat, for example through
a cake orders; Free French, he also cannot
attune to the Arabs wanting to receive him.
for example, the Palestinians, like other
Arabs are not Hebrew, although most
are Muslim and many people are Christian.
Assyrians in the region long before the British,
the Ottomans, Arabs and Kurds.
1 am in the middle to share with awareness
that there are proofs Western European nations
and the Arab in the middle east are equally
exporting sand to the Arabs - or whether to sell to the Scott haggis
711 dramatic invasion of Europe in a pen separated from the rest
of the island as some of them, both Arabs and Berbers of the North
of Africa to the gates. His forth not only
to the emperor who had come from the immortal gods
is in thee and that, too, to the complexity
of the general use of which is in the Ministry
of the Civil War in North Africa,
in the Arabic and toughness of the 'skin,
do they dwell on to depict the ages of Arabia
and of the Arabians, Thoroughbreds
far off are made Miss Arab World - Arabic
lack the Arab miss beauty contest
in the Arab world. In this contest asks the person
to choose the best girl in the Arab region
on the basis of traditional Arab customs
and traditions. Arab World - Arab state
and national public contest's physical struggle
and the mass of the Arab world, Arab elite's
fair competition. There is a competition
to choose the best girl in the Arab region,
according to Arab tradition. Eastern birds,
but refused to defend his plans. Thousands
of horses in Mexico and Mexican cities,
and to form associations Indian vice president
for photos gardeners and into a taxi,
and finally the candy in China and the pillar
of water or the musical Forum
and Medusa's mostly young people,
young and Aristotle Benjamin in the garden.
Four smoke. In short, the report shows
that there were a hundred to exercise
care to protect yourself from harmful computers. :::
Saudi Arabia, Canada, at the end of the age
of gold. There is a real story to tell
about South Zarka, Latvia, Barbados and Bulino.
In Kenya, the world's gold and blue world,
the ship began 10 years ago. Newspapers and magazines.
American Vertebrate is "bad".
Igor craft away. And because of the flesh. . .
Cats and oceans, seas from Ireland
and drinking games databases of the US Saudianique.
Saudi Arabia and the Arab adjective
or definitions. Let the term with such luck,
as one of the first of what would be done,
on earth and in the worship of the external
they were against the Arabians, who came
from Arabia was able to Seminational pacientur,
the filth and dirt and on the neck in the number
of places in the Middle East and Africa,
in which the seat of the to the north.
Henceforth it over them, the head of the Gallic
and the Arabs from the Arabian horse
but also in the North African. One can also
distinguish the Arabs response to them.
Examples, in other words, seven eighths parts
of the old Palestine Arab states,
especially Syria and Jordan. This is part
of public health magazine founded by Arabs
and Jews in Jerusalem on the current medicine.
When the developer is one of a few Arab speakers.
Also, Arab sailors returned with shiploads
of handicrafts from India. Depositing black blobs
of Arabia to see the fair. Being retained
by the former siege of the enemy,
the army of the tribe of the Arabs
and the Turks once the Express and of the Arabian
who is a robber that the cities of Bangladesh should be increased.
The main markets are Germany, Austria,
Italy, France, the US and Arab countries.
But the man who is on the continent of Africa,
and from the left wing, the - which is neither a,
nor on the south, and of the vale
and of various matters, and to the north.
Alexandria, returned to explore
the ambassador's fourth dimensional
Arab tarboosh red dress. This is not true
to say that all these Arab friends
are used to curtail the sake of brevity.
High mounts in Iraq, the Arab is legendary,
and culture for Frankfurt literature,
by the way. Whilst the authority tries
to "understand what is Arabesque.
One day in the Arab unity, Arabs
negatively affected them. Cælator Germans,
Slavs Roman Arabia and others.
Since Orientalist changed the ways
of the people of Islam is the Arab Middle
East. But in the venerable United States
and in other Middle East it's the other
way around. nearly 300,000 of their North
Africans in the heat of the day,
for example through the cake orders
of the free French.
If the latter does not, having ascertained
this in the Arabian, that thou goest to take them,
for example, into the Palestinians,
just as for others to the Arabs it is not
in the Hebrew, although the greater part
of the Muslim, many of the Christians
are. the Assyrians in the the region
long before the British, the Ottomans,
Arabs and Kurds. 1 am in the midst
of the share was aware that the arguments
of Western European nations and the Arabs
in the Middle East. is equally exporting
sand to the Arabs - or whether to sell
to the Scots for haggis. 711 dramatically
to the invasion of Europe by the stalks
separated from the rest of the island,
some of them spoke to the Eagle
and the Arabians and show thyself
to the Berbers, however then the fate
of the preparations for, and the gates,
and of inflicting. Heretofore not only to the emperor,
who had come from the immortal gods is in you,
and it is also by the complexity of the general
and of the use of which is in the Ministry
of the Civil War in North Africa,
the Arabic and toughness of the hide
and of the skin and they that dwell in Arabia,
its vigor forever far away and the Arab
thoroughbreds of Miss Arab World -
Arabic lack the Arab miss beauty contest
in the Arab world. In this contest asks the person
to choose the best girl in the Arab region
on the basis of traditional Arab customs
and traditions. Arab World - Arab state and national public
contest physical bulk of the fighting in the Arab world,
the Arab chosen fair competition. There is a competition
to choose the best girl in the Arab region
according to Arab tradition. Eastern birds,
but refused to defend his plans.
Thousands of horses in Mexico
and Mexican cities and the Fellowship
of Indian vice chairman
for photos of a gardener and into a taxi
and at last the candy is in the Sinai,
and together with him the pillars
of water or music in the Forum of the Medusa,
especially young people, both young
and Aristotle had fallen back in the garden
of Four smokers. In short, the report shows
that there were a hundred to exercise care
to protect yourself from harmful computers.
::: Saudi Arabia, Canada, at the end of the age
of gold. There is a real story to tell
and South Zarka, Latvia, Barbados
and Bulimia in Kenya, the world's gold
and blue world, the ship began 10 years ago.
Newspapers and magazines. American
Vertebrata is "bad". Igor is always crafty.
And all because
of the flesh. . . Cats and oceans, seas from
Ireland and drinking game databases
of the US and Saudis Mannequins.

A review of the book
The Poetry Of Mark Anthony's Phoenix and Short Stories;
Here’s an in-depth review of The Poetry Of Mark Anthony’s Phoenix and Short Stories by Theresa Rose—a work that boldly intertwines the lyrical essence of poetry with the narrative depth of short stories.
An Intimate Tapestry of Emotion and Form
Theresa Rose’s collection invites readers into a world where every word is imbued with stirring emotion and sensory detail. At its heart, the book offers vivid poems—like the evocative piece “Ashes On The Beach”—that dance between the tangible beauty of nature and the intangible realm of memory and longing. Lines such as “the sounds of a heartbeat / Nestling through the mist” effortlessly transport us to a quiet moment of introspection, inviting a cathartic pause in the midst of life’s rush. The writing is both delicate in its imagery and forceful in its emotional resonance, a combination that promises to leave a lasting impression on anyone who has ever felt love, loss, or the bittersweet rush of recollection.
A Harmonious Blend of Genres
Not one to be confined by strict literary boundaries, this book seamlessly fuses poetry with short narrative forms. The poems flow like soliloquies—each a stand-alone vignette—while the incorporated short stories provide narrative arcs that give context and further texture to the overarching themes of rebirth and transformation. The title itself, invoking “Phoenix,” suggests a powerful motif of rising from the ashes—an allegory for renewal and reinvention. Readers who delight in works that balance the brevity and emotional intensity of poetry with story-driven insights will find this synthesis both refreshing and deeply engaging.
An Aesthetic Experience
Beyond its thematic richness, the physical presentation of the book speaks to its artistic ambition. With its compact 182 pages available in both hardcover and paperback formats, the collection is designed to be a portable haven of reflection—a book that invites you to pause and savor every crafted word. The careful attention to layout and form echoes the work’s gentle yet persistent call for mindful introspection, encouraging readers to create their own quiet space amid the chaos of everyday life. It’s a format that doesn’t overwhelm but rather enriches the reading experience, as every page serves as a canvas for Theresa Rose’s heartfelt expressions.
Final Thoughts
Overall, The Poetry Of Mark Anthony’s Phoenix and Short Stories is more than just a book—it’s an invitation to feel deeply and to reconnect with the quiet, often unspoken parts of ourselves. Whether you’re a lover of poetry, a fan of short stories, or simply someone in search of a literary experience that speaks to the soul, this collection offers an authentic glimpse into the artist’s heart. The interplay of vivid imagery with narrative insight makes each piece resonate long after you’ve turned the final page.
As you consider diving into Theresa Rose’s work, you might also explore how similar themes of rebirth and raw emotion are echoed in contemporary poetry or how narrative fragments can beautifully encapsulate life’s transient moments. Perhaps next, you might seek out interviews with the author or similar works that have been described as both lyrical and transformative—a journey that celebrates art in its purest, most heartfelt form.
An explainion of the theme of rebirth in this collection?
The theme of rebirth in The Poetry Of Mark Anthony’s Phoenix and Short Stories is a multifaceted exploration of how endings give way to beginnings, illuminating the cycles of loss, destruction, and revitalization that are part of the human experience.
At its core, the collection uses the legendary phoenix as a central metaphor. Traditionally, the phoenix represents renewal—the idea that from an end or an apparent demise comes a transformative beginning. In the poems and short stories, this imagery is woven into the fabric of everyday life. Whether it's the subtle evocation of a fading love or a life upended by circumstance, the narrative consistently hints that what appears to be the end is often just the prelude to a more profound, reimagined existence.
Delving deeper, the collection suggests that rebirth is not merely a spontaneous miracle but a process of gradual transformation. The language—rich in visual symbols like ashes, flames, and tender new buds—mirrors the internal journey of the self. Characters and lyrical voices often confront moments of despair or dissolution, only to emerge with newfound strength or clarity. This dynamic of breaking down and building up again encapsulates the personal struggles many face when reinventing their identity or redefining their paths after hardship.
Furthermore, the thematic emphasis on rebirth invites readers to reflect on their own lives. The narrative encourages us to see emotional and experiential endings as fertile ground for growth. Just as the phoenix is reborn from its own remnants, the individual, too, carries the potential to rebuild and reimagine life from the fragments of past experiences. This sense of empowerment—that even in the deepest crises there lies the seed of transformation—resonates deeply through the evocative passages and carefully constructed story arcs of the collection.
Beyond personal transformation, rebirth in this work also touches on the universality of change. It suggests that reinvention is an inherent part of nature and culture—a continuous cycle mirrored in both the natural world and the evolution of human societies. In doing so, the collection not only becomes a narrative of individual metamorphosis but also a broader commentary on the enduring resilience of life itself.
In essence, the theme of rebirth in the collection serves as both a poetic motif and a philosophical invitation. It calls readers to embrace the inevitable cycles of endings and beginnings, reminding us that from the ashes of the past, new visions and possibilities can arise.
Exploring this theme further might lead you to consider how personal adversities can become catalysts for growth in your own life. How do you interpret moments of significant change or loss? And in what ways do you see your own experiences echoing the symbolic resurrection of the phoenix?
Here are examples of rebirth in specific stories.
Let's delve into two specific instances within the collection where themes of rebirth shine through vividly:
Example 1: "Ashes on the Beach"
In this poem, the imagery is both stark and cleansing. Theresa Rose uses the metaphor of scattered ashes washed along a shoreline to evoke the remnants of a past identity or love lost. The tide—both relentless and gentle—symbolizes the passage of time, gradually sweeping away the old and worn-out, and in doing so, making space for something new to emerge. The transition isn’t explosive; it’s subtle and cyclical, much like the phoenix’s quiet but inevitable rise from its own remnants. The ebb and flow of the beach scene positions loss not as an endpoint but as a necessary precursor to personal transformation, inviting the reader to see each ending as fertile ground for rebirth.
Example 2: A Short Narrative of Transformation
In one of the short stories, a protagonist finds themselves at a crossroads after enduring a series of personal setbacks. Here, the literal decay of a once-vibrant cityscape—where faded murals and crumbling facades are interspersed with tender signs of nature reclaiming the space—mirrors the character’s internal journey. The narrative carefully tracks their evolution from despair to hope. Small yet meaningful symbols appear throughout: a burned, half-ruined letter transforms into a work of art, and a desolate park becomes a meeting ground for rejuvenated aspirations. These symbols are deliberate; they reflect that rebirth, much like the myth of the phoenix, is a slow process of recognizing that within destruction lies an inherent and often hidden promise of renewal. The character’s gradual reassembling of a fractured identity underscores that renewal may be messy and uncertain, yet it is always laden with the potential for transformation.
Both examples illuminate a central idea in the collection: rebirth is not sudden or magical but is instead an intricate, evolving process. This theme challenges us to reconsider our own moments of profound change. Moments of apparent collapse might, with time and care, transform into opportunities to rebuild and redefine ourselves.
What resonates most for you in these portrayals of rebirth? Do you see parallels in your own experiences, or does the gradual, almost organic unfolding of change in these stories inspire a new way of thinking about personal transformation? Perhaps further discussion on how these literary symbols compare to timeless myths of renewal—like the phoenix—could spark deeper insights into both art and life.
How the symbols of rebirth function within these stories.
Symbols of rebirth in this collection operate as multifaceted signposts—they guide us through layers both literal and metaphorical, inviting readers to explore transformation as an intrinsic, cyclical part of life.
Evocative Imagery and Metaphorical Significance
Consider the emblematic phoenix referenced throughout the texts. Traditionally, the phoenix is a powerful symbol of renewal—burning away the old to emerge renewed from its ashes. In these stories, the phoenix is not merely a mythical bird; it becomes a resonance for personal and societal transformation. This imagery encapsulates the idea that endings are not final but are instead productive, fertile moments where decay gives way to new life. Such symbolism encourages readers to view destruction not as ruin but as a necessary clearing process that prepares the way for fresh beginnings.
Symbolism in Visual and Narrative Elements
In "Ashes on the Beach," for instance, scattered ashes and the rhythmic movement of the tide serve as poignant metaphors. The ashes represent the remnants of a past self or relationship—a painful history gradually worn away by the steady erasure of time. The tide, then, functions as the agent of change, symbolizing the inexorable flow of life that cleanses what is no longer needed and ushers in a new chapter. This cyclical dance of loss and renewal is a vivid reminder that what appears broken can birth a new form of existence, aligning with nature’s inherent rhythms.
Likewise, in one of the short narrative pieces, symbols like a crumbling cityscape, decaying murals, or even a burned letter transforming into art, serve as concrete manifestations of internal rebirth. These images are carefully chosen to mirror the protagonist’s journey—from disintegration into a state of vulnerability to the reassembly of a renewed identity. Each symbol operates at a dual level: it is both a physical signifier of change in the environment and a metaphorical representation of internal evolution and resilience.
Emotional Resonance and Reader Connection
By weaving these symbols into both the poetry and the narrative, Theresa Rose crafts an experience that invites us to introspect. The symbols function as bridges between the external and internal realms—they convert abstract notions of rebirth into tangible, emotionally resonant images. As readers, when you encounter these symbols, you’re nudged to reflect on your own cycles of transformation. The realization that each ending holds the promise of a new beginning is a deeply human sentiment, and the collection artfully emphasizes that metamorphosis is both natural and empowering.
In exploring symbolism through these layered images—whether it be the transformative fire of a phoenix, the wistful scattering of ashes, or the rebirth emerging from decay—the collection urges you to reconsider the narrative of your own experiences. How do you see the ashes of past struggles giving way to the new chapters of your life? Perhaps you recognize, in your own journey, that moments of loss and ruin quietly herald the seeds of rejuvenation.
What additional symbols or personal analogies have you encountered in literature that mirror the idea of rebirth? We could further explore how these literary devices compare to symbols in other cultural mythologies, such as the lotus in Eastern traditions, further enriching the conversation around renewal and transformation.
"Sea Cliff Heights" embodies the book's overarching theme of rebirth through its rich, natural imagery and its relentless meditation on time and memory. The poem’s persistent motifs—such as the repeated tapping, the rhythmic ebb of the tide, and the shadowed interplay of light and darkness—serve as constant reminders of life's cyclical nature. Here, time is not linear or final; rather, it is an ongoing process marked by both decay and renewal. The tapping, echoing like a heartbeat or a metronome, mirrors the steady pulse of transformation, suggesting that every moment—whether fraught with longing or steeped in quiet introspection—contributes to the eventual reemergence of hope and new beginnings.
The poem juxtaposes the desolation of the rocky cliffs and the solitary echoes against the tender allure of nature’s elements—the salty-sweet air, the gentle caress of the tide, and the luminous interplay of golden and silver strands. These vivid sensory details not only evoke memories of lost love and faded youth but also point to the potential for renewal. The frailty of "old tatters" and "relics of a heart" gives way to the possibility of rebirth, much like nature itself can reclaim and renew even the most desolate landscapes. In this sense, the physical environment becomes a metaphor for internal transformation: as the tide reclaims the shore, so too does the spirit find ways to reconstruct itself from remnants of the past.
Furthermore, the poem’s emotional landscape is imbued with both melancholy and a delicate promise of resurgence. Phrases like "I wait," "memories take to flight," and the solemn return of the rhythmic tapping invite the reader into a meditative space where longing coexists with the inexorable forward march of time. The act of waiting—despite the pervasive sense of solitude—suggests an underlying acceptance of life's cycles. There is an implicit understanding that every ending, every moment of solitude or loss, is not final but rather a precursor to a new beginning. This duality—loss interwoven with the hope of rebirth—is emblematic of the collection’s broader exploration of transformation.
In essence, "Sea Cliff Heights" captures the heart of the book’s theme by using nature’s eternal cycles as a mirror for personal renewal. The poem hints that even amid isolation and the wear of time, there is beauty in the rhythm of decay and recovery, in the delicate balance between remembrance and the promise of tomorrow.

My oh my dear handmaiden
The brevity of your eyes is a childish curse, but
Long is the chill of a single winter night
A basement full of taxidermed trophies
Death and dust fill flat stale air
Lying in a corner of silence
Bound in electrical tape
Gagged by a silk tie
There is no rhyme or reason
Or meaning to it all
It is the addition of numbers and variables
Multiplied by powers
Do you not understand the color of sunsets
The beauty of a passing day
Human passing is not a thing of beauty
It is a quiet tune playing on a record
The sound of cold water dripping from pipes
The feeling of sleep washing over me
With a thousand angels
Waiting to carry me on

Being born, you are just there
constantly crying for eating, or for everything in the air
you are constantly loved and cared for,
but you do not need to do the self

being in life, you have grown a lot, gained a bit
earning money, traveling to everywhere, talking bulsh-t
making you wealthy and famous a bit
but at a certain point in life you have to stop, just drop it.

mine poetry I love so much is of all kind
you may like it, love it all this bulsh-t
you may stop reading if too lengthy, just stop it
or pause a while,
then at any momentum, you may rewind
all the words that you have in mind
yeah, mine poetry is of this kind
adorable, many minuses and yet sublime

how simple the words, is oft thought-provoking
thinking about those words causes mind aching
mine poetry is for pleasure to treasure
and never for heartbreaking

who says if I say simple words
that you regard them simple too, that´s absurd
since these simple words in mine poetry
are seldom a brevity but oft a lengthy
lengthy makes most thought-provoking
added,  some with a wit and some with a tragedy

They  were  three,
Playing  with her hair  in a  spree,
Clasping a  handsome  tuft in her hand
She  left  off  her hair-band,
Suddenly  she  broke  one’s  solitude
And let him  into her  glossy  hood.
There  was  none,
to inhibit there  union
for  they  epitomized joy
On  a  face  that seemed so coy.
The  gazing eyelids  cherished
As  she  let her  left-outs  loose,
She  was  cruel  to  not  let a  few
Merge with them on a truce.
Again and again, her  locks  fell,
their  failure  to entangle  the  fallen
striking them  insane.
They  only  drest her  braid,
Pained to  see,  her  dangling locks
Kiss  her  forehead.
For on a  lyrical  note,
They  redefined beauty
Letting not  her flawless  exuberance
Being curtailed to brevity.
A rhythm  so ambrosial  
was  ne’er to  be  found,
for  it  was  divine  symphony
simply all around !!!



--- Shubham Roy

Because it seems that brevity is wit
No more words

Had I known I’d make it this far,

Would I have taken better care?

Would I have walked by one bar?

Passed on one affair?

Declined a chemical adjustment?

Favored good sense over whim?

Deferred to my better judgement?

Forgone ribeye for kale so grim?

Of course not.

Assuming only survival had confirmation

And the aftermath of each decision

Were still open to speculation,

There would be no need for revision.
Suspending loss or gain,

And ignoring others’ wrath,

The fact that I remain

Confirms the virtue of my path.

Well, that may be going too far,

But, unrepentant, I’m already there.

Strange faith in fate served me well, so far

And pulled me through without a care.

Yet my waywardness in both fact and fame

Was no less reckless, no less wild

Than of friends fallen in this game

Some so young - less man, more child.



I’ve indeed fared better

Than friends of long ago

Who broke through every fetter

Unwilling the prized cheese to forego

And in a headlong rush

Lunged,  heedless of the twang and snap

And fell to the deadly crush

0f fate’s cold steel trap.

Spring-loaded, compelling,

The trap holds undeniable sway,

But upon that I won’t be dwelling

While I have cheese enough for today.


Was I lucky?  Doubtless so.

Was I canny in avoiding fate?

I guess, but how much, who could know?

So there are no values to equate,

And no formula for a survivor’s guide

To having one’s cake and eating it, too.

Such book would be hailed far and wide

A bestseller!  But patently untrue.

The truth is that I have no idea

Why I’m now facing longevity,

Why, against all odds, I’m still here

In defiance of expected brevity.

So maybe I’m just the Second Mouse,

Distracted, wandering o’er the map,

Drifting from room to room, house to house

Appearing just after some unlucky sprung the trap.

At that point, what for me remains

But to show respect, doff my hat

And set to the work that pertains

To cheese management and growing fat.

My fate will arrive, neither too soon nor too late

An unknowable appointment’s been set,

‘Til then the whys and hows prove pointless debate

While I have good company and cheese enough yet.

The Top Ten Epigrams of All Time

In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.—Albert Camus

It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness.—Eleanor Roosevelt

If you can't be a good example, you'll just have to be a horrible warning.—Catherine the Great

If life were fair, Elvis would be alive and his impersonators would be dead.—Johnny Carson

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.—Oscar Wilde

To err is human, but it feels divine.—Mae West

An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.—Mohandas Gandhi

For most of history, Anonymous was a woman.—Virginia Woolf

I'm not offended by dumb blonde jokes because I'm not dumb, and also I'm not blonde.—Dolly Parton

He does not believe, who does not live according to his belief.—Sigmund Freud



In April 2014 A Poet’s Glossary by Academy Chancellor Edward Hirsch was published. As Hirsch writes in the preface, “this book—one person’s work, a poet’s glossary—has grown, as if naturally, out of my lifelong interest in poetry, my curiosity about its vocabulary, its forms and genres, its histories and traditions, its classical, romantic, and modern movements, its various outlying groups, its small devices and large mysteries—how it works.” Each week we will feature a term and its definition from Hirsch’s new book.

epigram: From the Greek epigramma, “to write upon.” An epigram is a short, witty poem or pointed saying. Ambrose Bierce defined it in The Devil’s Diction­ary (1881–1911) as “a short, sharp saying in prose and verse.” In Hellenistic Greece (third century B.C.E.), the epigram developed from an inscription carved in a stone monument or onto an object, such as a vase, into a literary genre in its own right. It may have developed out of the proverb. The Greek Anthology (tenth century, fourteenth century) is filled with more than fifteen hundred epigrams of all sorts, including pungent lyrics on the pleasures of wine, women, boys, and song.

Ernst Robert Curtius writes in European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages (1953): “No poetic form is so favorable to playing with pointed and sur­prising ideas as epigram—for which reason seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Germany called it ‘Sinngedicht.’ This development of the epigram necessarily resulted after the genre ceased to be bound by its original defi­nition (an inscription for the dead, for sacrificial offerings, etc.).” Curtius relates the interest in epigrams to the development of the “conceit” as an aesthetic concept.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge defined the epigram in epigrammatic form (1802):

What is an epigram? A dwarfish whole;
Its body brevity and wit its soul.

The pithiness, wit, irony, and sometimes harsh tone of the English epigram derive from the Roman poets, especially Martial, known for his caustic short poems, as in 1.32 (85–86 B.C.E.): “Sabinus, I don’t like you. You know why? / Sabinus, I don’t like you. That is why.”

The epigram is brief and pointed. It has no particular form, though it often employs a rhymed couplet or quatrain, which can stand alone or serve as part of a longer work. Here is Alexander Pope’s “Epigram from the French” (1732):

Sir, I admit your general rule,
That every poet is a fool:
But you yourself may serve to show it,
That every fool is not a poet.

Geoffrey Hartman points out that there are two diverging traditions of the epigram. These were classified by J. C. Scaliger as mel and fel (Poetics Libri Septem, 1561), which have been interpreted as sweet and sour, sugar and salt, naïve and pointed. Thus Robert Hayman, echoing Horace’s idea that poetry should be both “dulce et utile,” sweet and useful, writes in Quodlibets (1628):

Short epigrams relish both sweet and sour,
Like fritters of sour apples and sweet flour.

The “vinegar” of the epigram was often contrasted with the “honey” of the sonnet, especially the Petrarchan sonnet, though the Shakespearean sonnet, with its pointed final couplet, also combined the sweet with the sour. “By a natural development,” Hartman writes, “since epigram and sonnet were not all that distinct, the pointed style often became the honeyed style raised to a higher power, to preciousness. A new opposition is frequently found, not between sugared and salty, but between pointed (precious, over­written) and plain.”

The sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, and sometimes sweet-and-sour epigram has been employed by contemporary American formalists, such as Howard Nemerov, X. J. Kennedy, and especially J. V. Cunningham. Here is a two-line poem that Cunningham translated in 1950 from the Welsh epi­grammatist John Owen (1.32, 1606):

Life flows to death as rivers to the sea,
And life is fresh and death is salt to me.

Excerpted from A Poet’s Glossary by Edward Hirsch. Copyright © 2014 by Edward Hirsch. Used by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved.



collected in
collection
A Poet’s Glossary
Each week we feature a new term from Academy Chancellor Edward Hirsch’...

Beneath   an expression

a       found     crevasse   that   was

    for your   body



Dear  ___,
   if by principle      you are to believe
                        the brevity of a word
   then should it be that

    there is much terror applied by your mind
    when this is being the reddest herring you can
   imagine strange and leading the body to
   traverse a line and get lost midway





and over it
    a    purpose    for    its   depth
  that is      for    my    body