Submissions by Baldwin
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poetry as Prosaic Ideas
It has been claimed (see what's below)
by Joseph Z
that all the things
that I submit to DUP
as poetry
are only dullish mental entities
since that is what the word
“idea” means.
How this can be
when it is indisputable
“ideas” cannot be known
unless they are expressed
in written or in spoken words
that one may see or hear
is far beyond a person’s ken
and only when, and not before,
these mind abiding concepts take on flesh
will readers know
the substance of the thought
a...
by Joseph Z
that all the things
that I submit to DUP
as poetry
are only dullish mental entities
since that is what the word
“idea” means.
How this can be
when it is indisputable
“ideas” cannot be known
unless they are expressed
in written or in spoken words
that one may see or hear
is far beyond a person’s ken
and only when, and not before,
these mind abiding concepts take on flesh
will readers know
the substance of the thought
a...
#WritingPoetry
144 reads
0 Comments
Romulus
The whelping bitch gave us her teat.
And we, of Mars and vestal born,
and water shed,
wolfed down the milk inside
of it.
And strengthened so,
we lived lupine, wood-cocked,
all feral, at the start
but grew, when crooked and shepherded,
to be two men
god destined at first
to roam
and rape,
and then unseat
usurpers from their thrones,
until, before the Palatine,
bird signed,
I drew a citied circle on the earth
and placed upon myself the mark of Cain.
And we, of Mars and vestal born,
and water shed,
wolfed down the milk inside
of it.
And strengthened so,
we lived lupine, wood-cocked,
all feral, at the start
but grew, when crooked and shepherded,
to be two men
god destined at first
to roam
and rape,
and then unseat
usurpers from their thrones,
until, before the Palatine,
bird signed,
I drew a citied circle on the earth
and placed upon myself the mark of Cain.
#mythology
130 reads
0 Comments
Memorial Day
The killing fields of Ypres,
Verdun, and of the Somme
are verdant now,
their greening since the Armistice
have each become
a cover for the lie
of ages old
the ardent young were once
and still today are told
of how it is a noble and a glorious thing
to kill and die.
for God, for country, and for king.
Verdun, and of the Somme
are verdant now,
their greening since the Armistice
have each become
a cover for the lie
of ages old
the ardent young were once
and still today are told
of how it is a noble and a glorious thing
to kill and die.
for God, for country, and for king.
#soldiers
232 reads
0 Comments
The Home of Words
Is it not true
that often the outstanding place
where words abide
and find their home’s within
are rants that come from hate-filled mouths
intent to slur, malign
what’s fine in other’s eyes,
to spur some people from
among the ignorant and misinformed
and prejudiced
to sin?
that often the outstanding place
where words abide
and find their home’s within
are rants that come from hate-filled mouths
intent to slur, malign
what’s fine in other’s eyes,
to spur some people from
among the ignorant and misinformed
and prejudiced
to sin?
#WritingPoetry
127 reads
0 Comments
Concepts without Percepts
Notions don’t dress up one’s lines
let alone in niceties.
It’s only when a notion’s sheathed in words
that this occurs
and then, unless these words
are shaped, construed, to sparkle verbally
when they’re set out together each to each
and peak in their arrangements on a page
without displaying solecisms or
some ghastly breaches
of good grammar’s golden rules
or use of awkward phrases too
that mars a poem’s prosody
they’ll show
a would-be, braggart poet up
as talentless, possessing no...
let alone in niceties.
It’s only when a notion’s sheathed in words
that this occurs
and then, unless these words
are shaped, construed, to sparkle verbally
when they’re set out together each to each
and peak in their arrangements on a page
without displaying solecisms or
some ghastly breaches
of good grammar’s golden rules
or use of awkward phrases too
that mars a poem’s prosody
they’ll show
a would-be, braggart poet up
as talentless, possessing no...
#WritingPoetry
156 reads
0 Comments
An Inner Monologue
If I were truthful to myself
I would admit
the notions that I often “chase”
(for instance, how an afterlife
makes living now worthwhile;
how Jesus is the source
of human happiness
how “man”s” desire for sex
and wealth leads to calamity)
when I intend to write some poetry
are not all by themselves articulate
or meaningful or treasure-filled,
or when they're ranked against
some other notions people have
in any way premier
How could they be?
For they're abstractions,...
I would admit
the notions that I often “chase”
(for instance, how an afterlife
makes living now worthwhile;
how Jesus is the source
of human happiness
how “man”s” desire for sex
and wealth leads to calamity)
when I intend to write some poetry
are not all by themselves articulate
or meaningful or treasure-filled,
or when they're ranked against
some other notions people have
in any way premier
How could they be?
For they're abstractions,...
#WritingPoetry
121 reads
0 Comments
Was Jesus Uniquely "Great"?
When I consider all that Jesus taught,
proclaimed, consistently rehearsed,
about the God of Israel,
his mercies and his grace
towards both sinner and the saint,
and how H-Shem requires his chosen ones,
his would-be faithful sons,
to focus on displaying charity,
especially unto their lowly kin
and also what this Nazorean did for those
who were deprived of justice, kindness, health
and hope,
or suffered from the grave effects
of what their leaders did
to please their Roman overlords,
I cannot...
proclaimed, consistently rehearsed,
about the God of Israel,
his mercies and his grace
towards both sinner and the saint,
and how H-Shem requires his chosen ones,
his would-be faithful sons,
to focus on displaying charity,
especially unto their lowly kin
and also what this Nazorean did for those
who were deprived of justice, kindness, health
and hope,
or suffered from the grave effects
of what their leaders did
to please their Roman overlords,
I cannot...
#identity
153 reads
1 Comment
I am religious (revised)
I am religious once again.
For you have made my bed
a place of eager pilgrimage
where I, at journey's end,
become devout within your arms,
and then, amazed
at how evocative to reverence
of things divine they are,
I am inspired to prayer
and bent to call out avidly
the name of god.
For you have made my bed
a place of eager pilgrimage
where I, at journey's end,
become devout within your arms,
and then, amazed
at how evocative to reverence
of things divine they are,
I am inspired to prayer
and bent to call out avidly
the name of god.
#sensual
277 reads
2 Comments
How Will You Know?
How will you know
that I speak truthfully
when I, all breathless, pledge to you
that I am yours?
The proof will be
the widening glow that rises in my eyes,
the tremble in my voice
when you are near to me,
and then the way my body
arches up into your touch
and how you make my tongue
so avidly,
when we are body pressed,
begin to lash dark dreams
upon your skin.
By all of this
you’ll of my plighted troth
be quite assured.
Oh some (the prudish sort)
might say
that when...
that I speak truthfully
when I, all breathless, pledge to you
that I am yours?
The proof will be
the widening glow that rises in my eyes,
the tremble in my voice
when you are near to me,
and then the way my body
arches up into your touch
and how you make my tongue
so avidly,
when we are body pressed,
begin to lash dark dreams
upon your skin.
By all of this
you’ll of my plighted troth
be quite assured.
Oh some (the prudish sort)
might say
that when...
#love
286 reads
2 Comments
Golgotha
O Joseph Z,
if you had been at Golgotha
that fateful darkened day,
would you have wept in sympathy
while standing there
close by the mocked one’s side
until the time that he cried out
forsakenly “My God!”
and breathed his last?
Or would you then have been among
the ones
who, roving past the bloodied hanging man
whose titulus declared him King,
reviled him when God refused his rescuing?
Your pietistic confidence
that you’d have taken up
with Mary and the other women
watching Jesus...
if you had been at Golgotha
that fateful darkened day,
would you have wept in sympathy
while standing there
close by the mocked one’s side
until the time that he cried out
forsakenly “My God!”
and breathed his last?
Or would you then have been among
the ones
who, roving past the bloodied hanging man
whose titulus declared him King,
reviled him when God refused his rescuing?
Your pietistic confidence
that you’d have taken up
with Mary and the other women
watching Jesus...
#SelfWorth
349 reads
0 Comments
As You Slept
As you slept
your hand came like a dove descending
to my shoulder blades --
I wondered then
if you had dreamt your touch to be
a bookmark to remember where
you’d left off with
your mouth’s soft reading
all the love for you that’s written
on and underneath my skin,
a marking where, on waking,
you would, I hoped,
begin to read again.
your hand came like a dove descending
to my shoulder blades --
I wondered then
if you had dreamt your touch to be
a bookmark to remember where
you’d left off with
your mouth’s soft reading
all the love for you that’s written
on and underneath my skin,
a marking where, on waking,
you would, I hoped,
begin to read again.
#lover
250 reads
1 Comment
What was his boon?
It was the **Devil’s** claim that Jesus should
have God make bread for him from stones
since being fed, the Devil said,
and rescued from the dangers to his life
that Jesus surely had to face
on Temple top,
from rulers and authorities
and in Gethsemane
were things that as God’s Son
sweet Jesus knew as boons that he possessed by right,
and should not think that suffering was
his chartered course
or something that would bring him joy.
But God’s anointed one
rejected this. His happiness, he oft opined,
lay in his...
have God make bread for him from stones
since being fed, the Devil said,
and rescued from the dangers to his life
that Jesus surely had to face
on Temple top,
from rulers and authorities
and in Gethsemane
were things that as God’s Son
sweet Jesus knew as boons that he possessed by right,
and should not think that suffering was
his chartered course
or something that would bring him joy.
But God’s anointed one
rejected this. His happiness, he oft opined,
lay in his...
#LifeGoals
174 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Baldwin