Submissions by Baldwin
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Dec 2022 1:49pm
18th Dec 2022 1:49pm
veni, veni
I’m told
that once upon a midnight time
the host of heaven deigned
to breach the starless sky
to sing a gloried hymn
that marked with joy a tiding
of great consequence
and for a moment
all that lay
upon the hills 'round Bethlehem
seemed wreathed within a light
miraculous
not seen before or since
by women or by men.
And now we wait, we wait
with veni, veni on our lips
for it, assuming that the story's true
to grace us once again.
that once upon a midnight time
the host of heaven deigned
to breach the starless sky
to sing a gloried hymn
that marked with joy a tiding
of great consequence
and for a moment
all that lay
upon the hills 'round Bethlehem
seemed wreathed within a light
miraculous
not seen before or since
by women or by men.
And now we wait, we wait
with veni, veni on our lips
for it, assuming that the story's true
to grace us once again.
#Christmas
#PopCulture
219 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Dec 2022 7:39pm
16th Dec 2022 7:39pm
The Necessity of Rhyme
"Milton wrote verse
and was so full of hope to please."
My dear J-Z,
I wonder if you know
your hero Milton held
that poets who, like you,
believed that for a writing to be poetry
its lines must be
set out with rhymes
were talentless
and only, in their efforts to put down
entrancing words upon a page
showed themselves to be
dilettantes and jangelers
who had no grasp of how it was
that one achieved poetic art
since rhymes,
he said, were the invention of
a...
and was so full of hope to please."
My dear J-Z,
I wonder if you know
your hero Milton held
that poets who, like you,
believed that for a writing to be poetry
its lines must be
set out with rhymes
were talentless
and only, in their efforts to put down
entrancing words upon a page
showed themselves to be
dilettantes and jangelers
who had no grasp of how it was
that one achieved poetic art
since rhymes,
he said, were the invention of
a...
#WritingPoetry
#PopCulture
180 reads
8 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
15th Dec 2022 1:35pm
15th Dec 2022 1:35pm
Desire
She gave to me the gift
of touch.
She taught me much about
the adoration flesh deserves.
But then the fates
determined we’d be set apart
by circumstance.
And I, since then,
have known
a hunger that remains
unsatisfied.
of touch.
She taught me much about
the adoration flesh deserves.
But then the fates
determined we’d be set apart
by circumstance.
And I, since then,
have known
a hunger that remains
unsatisfied.
#passion
#PopCulture
468 reads
17 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
10th Dec 2022 3:54pm
10th Dec 2022 3:54pm
jealous of his "poetry"
Thanks for the laugh, J-Z.
Your claim that I am jealous of your poetry
assumes that you have written things
that fill me up
with envy of the way you set out words
upon a page
and make me rage that I’m
unable to compose a thing or two
that even comes within a mile
of imitating you.
The problem, though, is that your way,
with all its grammar gaffes
fallacious and pretentious claims,
inclarity of thought,
inversions causing dread,
a lack of concrete imagery
the sacrifice of...
Your claim that I am jealous of your poetry
assumes that you have written things
that fill me up
with envy of the way you set out words
upon a page
and make me rage that I’m
unable to compose a thing or two
that even comes within a mile
of imitating you.
The problem, though, is that your way,
with all its grammar gaffes
fallacious and pretentious claims,
inclarity of thought,
inversions causing dread,
a lack of concrete imagery
the sacrifice of...
#WritingPoetry
#PopCulture
279 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
5th Dec 2022 6:04pm
5th Dec 2022 6:04pm
Day by Day
Day by day
there’s less and less of me.
A token body, I.
Dissolved.
Flute boned.
The dull solidity I see
reflected in the looking glass
is all a lie.
And what was Eliot’s surmise?
That we are Hollow men?
More like
grey ghosts too tired to wail,
straw things,
no more than shufflings
in a dry cellar.
At night
and in the morning light
I walk with them.
there’s less and less of me.
A token body, I.
Dissolved.
Flute boned.
The dull solidity I see
reflected in the looking glass
is all a lie.
And what was Eliot’s surmise?
That we are Hollow men?
More like
grey ghosts too tired to wail,
straw things,
no more than shufflings
in a dry cellar.
At night
and in the morning light
I walk with them.
#aging
#PopCulture
153 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
2nd Dec 2022 1:35pm
2nd Dec 2022 1:35pm
Mazmer
For Jane Schaberg
Mary,
only fourteen now
but done in by Imperium.
Panthera’s seed was planted well
against your will
and now, to your regret, you know
you're swelling with his bastard spawn.
Do you, I wonder, rage against your god
who lets such things occur?
Do you demur?
Assume the blame
for your forced adultery?
Have you thought how Joseph,
expecting so to bring you undefiled into his home,
will be fraught and darkly shamed
when he comes to know
how much you’re stained,
so...
Mary,
only fourteen now
but done in by Imperium.
Panthera’s seed was planted well
against your will
and now, to your regret, you know
you're swelling with his bastard spawn.
Do you, I wonder, rage against your god
who lets such things occur?
Do you demur?
Assume the blame
for your forced adultery?
Have you thought how Joseph,
expecting so to bring you undefiled into his home,
will be fraught and darkly shamed
when he comes to know
how much you’re stained,
so...
#regret
#PopCulture
200 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Dec 2022 12:44pm
1st Dec 2022 12:44pm
Magi
What shall our questing hearts
discover when the calling star
at last stands still
above a house or hill.
Will it be worth the drudgery
and pilgrim’s pains we have endured
traversing moor
and mountain footed plains
in braving desiccating heat
and drowning rains,
bladed cold
and desert harrowings?
We will not know
until at journey’s end
we come to see
if it is life or death
to which we bend a knee
and take what’s
there before our eyes
as then a desolation or
a...
discover when the calling star
at last stands still
above a house or hill.
Will it be worth the drudgery
and pilgrim’s pains we have endured
traversing moor
and mountain footed plains
in braving desiccating heat
and drowning rains,
bladed cold
and desert harrowings?
We will not know
until at journey’s end
we come to see
if it is life or death
to which we bend a knee
and take what’s
there before our eyes
as then a desolation or
a...
#Christmas
#PopCulture
220 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
30th Nov 2022 6:08pm
30th Nov 2022 6:08pm
Gloria
The hill that I propose
to stand on come this Christmas eve
is nowhere near the one at Bethlehem
where hosts of Angels sang
and startled shepherds
with glad tidings long ago.
But still,
I hope it might be high enough
that when
I turn my ear up to the skies above
upon the stroke of twelve
I’ll catch some echo
of their shimmered Gloria
proclaiming to this sorrowed world
God’s peace
and boundless love.
to stand on come this Christmas eve
is nowhere near the one at Bethlehem
where hosts of Angels sang
and startled shepherds
with glad tidings long ago.
But still,
I hope it might be high enough
that when
I turn my ear up to the skies above
upon the stroke of twelve
I’ll catch some echo
of their shimmered Gloria
proclaiming to this sorrowed world
God’s peace
and boundless love.
#Christmas
#PopCulture
173 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
26th Nov 2022 2:57pm
26th Nov 2022 2:57pm
Joseph's Dilemma
Joseph, you are right to face this day with fear.
Not everyone has dreams like yours --
a rolling quaver in the night that shakes you
to your roots
a shadowed voice from heaven’s heights that
then commands:
“Go now, go against your will
and take the prim adulteress as your own.
Make the coming child who is not yours
the bearer of your name!”.
What fame will cling to you for this?
What shame?
Small whisperings behind your back
that you’re a fool?
The hand of God is leading you?
Fat chance.
So tremble, go ahead...
Not everyone has dreams like yours --
a rolling quaver in the night that shakes you
to your roots
a shadowed voice from heaven’s heights that
then commands:
“Go now, go against your will
and take the prim adulteress as your own.
Make the coming child who is not yours
the bearer of your name!”.
What fame will cling to you for this?
What shame?
Small whisperings behind your back
that you’re a fool?
The hand of God is leading you?
Fat chance.
So tremble, go ahead...
#Christmas
179 reads
6 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Nov 2022 1:19pm
24th Nov 2022 1:19pm
Bring me at this time of year,
Bring me at this time of year,
this time of loning wind
and cold
and early dusk,
a music wild and dangerous
a music that the heavens cannot hold.
Bring me the chorales the angels sang
at Christmas tide,
the gloried song that burnished then the stars
and kept the closing dark at bay.
Bring me their cheer,
their bright enkindling,
and pine, and fire, too.
For I, a thing made up of Eros and of tumbling dust,
grow old,
and, knowing that I’m waning
in the number of my days to come,
so want this with me here. ...
this time of loning wind
and cold
and early dusk,
a music wild and dangerous
a music that the heavens cannot hold.
Bring me the chorales the angels sang
at Christmas tide,
the gloried song that burnished then the stars
and kept the closing dark at bay.
Bring me their cheer,
their bright enkindling,
and pine, and fire, too.
For I, a thing made up of Eros and of tumbling dust,
grow old,
and, knowing that I’m waning
in the number of my days to come,
so want this with me here. ...
#Christmas
280 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Nov 2022 12:34pm
5th Nov 2022 12:34pm
Can I trust my dear life to a re-occurrence of what happened to me in the past?
I’m wondering if I
can trust my life
to what took place
within my past
should those events
occur again.
If they were those
in which I knew
the joys
of being loved
and being blessed
by friendships that
were strong
by unexpected kindnesses
from teachers and
from shopkeepers
delivery men and clerks
of golden Summer times
and the magic of
bright Christmasses
the answer’s “Yes”.
can trust my life
to what took place
within my past
should those events
occur again.
If they were those
in which I knew
the joys
of being loved
and being blessed
by friendships that
were strong
by unexpected kindnesses
from teachers and
from shopkeepers
delivery men and clerks
of golden Summer times
and the magic of
bright Christmasses
the answer’s “Yes”.
#LifeCycle
208 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2022 8:02pm
2nd Nov 2022 8:02pm
Old Men and the Sea
I’ve seen the fisherman,
that Papa Hemmingway once wrote about
and heard the tales that they’d spin out
at night when they had hung their purse seines
up to dry.
Did they speak of mermaids then
and one-eyed whales,
and willing Cuban whores
who'd rut for days?
Ah yes, they did,
But only to the gullible
who'd stand them drinks
in recompense for being swayed
within the magic of their words.
Oh, how these winking men,
these old salt-lying piscators,
were sly.
that Papa Hemmingway once wrote about
and heard the tales that they’d spin out
at night when they had hung their purse seines
up to dry.
Did they speak of mermaids then
and one-eyed whales,
and willing Cuban whores
who'd rut for days?
Ah yes, they did,
But only to the gullible
who'd stand them drinks
in recompense for being swayed
within the magic of their words.
Oh, how these winking men,
these old salt-lying piscators,
were sly.
#sea
182 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Baldwin
