The depth of death lies with thee and thy lord; spring of doom held in caress and sorrow. I weep for day, I weep for the narrow, and every morning shine the lord’s dark swords. Strumming the cries of a hundred raged hordes, our song almost sung, our tunes on arrow, with voices here today,Read more
Bright as day, dark as night, being lives on. Wisdom and passion, thy soul cannot bear; Fervor blooms vivid, smoke fills the warm air — View has turned: fearful duck to fearless swan! Oh, joy! She clutches me hither and yon: Tightrope and trampoline raise me midair. Behold! The beauty of the unaware: Liberty toRead more
God in heaven, peasant on earth, Clawing dirt for cheap gold, silent or whining. But on a day akin to the past, I cease to perspire and stand to rise again. On up, I climb: clutching, fumbling, walking, suffering, succeeding. Closer to the peak, the apex, I fly like Dante for freedom. O where artRead more
There is a place, a hidden place, Of artful perfection and masterful harmony. Towering trees enamour the fierce heavens As mountain ranges dance on the horizon, As heavy waves yonder kiss the burning coastlines, As one sits in the center, like a lotus, In a glade, a pasture, a space, ad infinitum, Chaliced with emptyRead more
Hark and hasten, brothers, For Humanity is under siege! Arm yourselves and bear your shields. To the gates, good brothers, and ready your steel! By the neon gods, hither the Enemy comes. Brace yourselves, brothers, and defend Humanity! The Fiends are striking at the Ears of Man, So seal them tight: Plug them up,Read more
Interpellate or hail me, whichever act you choose, I will remain—I am remaining—symbolizing for you. My name is Millions. My names are many. Call me an adjective, a verb, a lexicon, a curse. Or signify me as a tree, an industry, perhaps that Method of practice, or artifice of doctrine. In fact, say yourRead more
Hear the Angelus toll amidst discourse and ruckus, those who hear the consecutive high note to low note, On each half-hour of each old day, sonic hammerings for fifteen times to remind and remember the revenues and lanes. When the clock strikes twelve (or one hand consistent on twelve, the other on any number),Read more
Winter, winter By John Divinagracia Winter, winter, growing bright, Upon the traveller deep at night. Awash with hope the wanderer weaves Across the mountains and the trees. Winter, winter, growing bright, A shining lamp burns with light. Laden, lathered, adorned by faith, Around the oceans and the lakes. Winter, winter, growingRead more
A Poem in Olde English O whan the wintre in Decembre’s nyght. A manne and fere did yonder thru withe fryght. They tarried thither in the mountane Geat Whan herde hast they the snouring of the beaste. The manne did durst him fere to tuche the Baer. But fere did feare the pudh beastiesRead more
Silence in Our Time By John Divinagracia “In a Web of numbers, there are words read and speeches spoken. Amidst the roar of the day, fools and kings praise their thoughts, Within the whispers of the night, hegemons and hermits dance in song, And yet there is silence. Of a future made real, man mayRead more