Poem of the Day
Yellow Striped Pajamas
By Shamsher Bahadur Singh
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
Poetry: J-L
The Imitative Fallacy
By William Logan
So complete, the imago of consciousness,
the mosquito’s predatory whine
beauties itself in the clothing of childhood.
The Mallard’s Going
By John Logan
At the end of October a mallard
came down
to the lake’s edge
The Rising Sun
By William Logan
Along the rented sands of New York bight
used bandages and needles wash ashore.
The summer islanders are in a roar,
reduced to August in a living hell
The Shorter Aeneid
By William Logan
The sunlight was like wire on the water,
that morning the ghost ship drove upriver.
The only witness was a Jersey cow.
Train
By William Logan
Nothing in the nothing before dawn
but the bent screak of a crow,
hedges long naked of birds.
Two Poems
By William Logan
The quicksand builders built
against the Folly of All.
They built from ancient custom.
From Kings, an Account of Books 1 and 2 of Homer’s Iliad
By Christopher Logue
“Who’s there?”
“Manto, sir.”
“Manto?”
“Yes, sir. your youngest son.”
from The Iliad
By Christopher Logue
Until we part, my reader, put
What is called reality aside.
Instead,
A Suite for Jewels
By Christopher Logue
I am known
by my heart’s green core
as emerald.
from a new English version of Homer’s Iliad, Book Sixteen
By Christopher Logue
Now hear this:
While they fought around the ship firom Thessaly,
Patroclus came crying to the Greek.