The statue of Apollo stood in the museum´s hall,in the midst of the sculptures of the brightest antiquity-time.The man visited it with the clearest Arthurian grail,so that Phoebus awoke, with sheen of the first moon and star. That Apollo was a friend of the museums warden,who knew in moony dreams the petrified tears for ever.Apollo in the dazzling stone meant a whiff of the … [Read more...] about The Statue Of Apollo Through The Marvelous Night, By: Pawel Markiewicz
Men Like These, By: Mark Kelly
I will follow you to the darkest place,with my collected armies of heroes,to even that place where evil fears to go.We will take them all down, without mercy, forever.The heavens and earth will shake with our war cry,battle fury and rage, until our last.We will wait until you are ready to take our hand,so we can show you home.If I fall, my friends are the way. … [Read more...] about Men Like These, By: Mark Kelly
Rare In That Way, By: Matthew Morris Hawkins
The snows fell hard, in Middlebury.The tavern glowed: alight, alive, merry.Outside, a wind chilled frost,Inside was nourishment, at any cost. You sat and cupped your coffee;a splash of whiskey, made your pantlegs soggy.The air was thick with care and volley,you looked above the door,pinned there was holly. He looked, and caught your gaze his … [Read more...] about Rare In That Way, By: Matthew Morris Hawkins
My Unicorn, By: Phillip Jordan
You were good for something before I fell I cannot recall, I cannot complain.Wherefore art thou? Someplace special!Blood vessels a knot tying me around your crown I cannot explainYour chestnut epidermis I lick to taste your scent there is a presence within not letting go I would do anything.My arrhythmia beaten and beating into a sinus rhythmYour universal eyes hold the … [Read more...] about My Unicorn, By: Phillip Jordan
Franks Park, By: Phillip Jordan
That photograph look could be a Bob Ross painting along the green chain walk New pathways my sons and their friends created among the oaks and beeches are old tracks, my brother and I along with friends once rambled, played football, fought, drank, preambled having a laugh Still that hurricane of ’87 blows me away invasive brambles have overgrown where trees once … [Read more...] about Franks Park, By: Phillip Jordan