The stump is pulled, and gnarled, twisted, bent, It leans in awkward and in angled ways. Forgotten are the harvests that it sent Into the world to nourish and amaze. I say forgotten but that isn’t right, How could the fruit forget the sap and root? To be enjoyed, to be a sweetened bite Is …
Americanitas: Rise and Fall
The West has always beckoned us to come,And so we moved, intent to make our way,At first across a gray Atlantic swellThat we might scrabble hard to stay alive.The land was rich but hard, so we grew hard,And like the land grew rich and prosperous,So that we might grow soft again in leisure.A different West …
Sapphire Gray
When strings are pulled taut, the cello is tuned,The wood holds the wine that is seasoned and old.Dark music poured out and emptied the cask,And rolled in my goblet, rich, tawny and toldHow holiness tastes, how righteousness laughs. You shall be as God, the great dragon had said, Philosophers argue their shapes in the fire …
Yet Another Attempt to Make Poetry Sell Like Hotcakes
One of the things I try to keep my hands involved with—in order to keep my brain from freezing up—is the practice of setting portions of Scripture into various verse forms. This is a good way of noticing what the text is actually saying, and is also a good way of restating Scripture for yourself …
The Leaden Age
The great and their pride shall sink to the bottom, And settle in silt on the deep sea bed. But now, before dropped, from the palm of God, Behold . . . the golden age of lead.
High and Lowly
Not to worship, but to serve, Not to worship, but to save, Christ wrapped a towel around His waist, And as He knelt He gave A glorious affront To pious expectation here. Peter faltered at the grace, Peter faltered in dismay, Christ knelt to wash the grime and dirt As Peter tried to say His …
Reconciliation
Something glittered in the sandy bank. Gull circled noisily, but no one else was there More than a breeze was off the bay, But the clouds were motionless, Unaware of the bite below. Scattered reeds bent back toward the cottages, The early sunlight was bitter still. Sand behind me, forgotten miles, The sand in front …
Descent
Descending out of heaven Into Minneapolis, I saw outside the plane A hard, bright autumn.  Far below, a parking lot, Crammed with automobiles, Flared with momentary glory Like Hopkins’ shook foil.
Something to Mutter at the Polls
Obama floats, Obama leads,Obama nods, the media needsThat man’s apotheosis.Obama lies, Obama drawls,Obama grins, Obama trawlsWith our brand new neurosis. The other guy is John McCain,With not much there to numb the pain,Not even Sarah Palin.His grimaces might pass for smiles,Conservatives would walk for milesTo put this coffin nail in. Elections come, elections go,I vote …
Getting Poetry Back to the People
Yesterday New St. Andrews had the great privilege of hosting Chris Wiman, editor of Poetry magazine, as he addressed us all at our weekly Disputatio. His talk and answers during the Q&A were really informative, and the reading he did of some of his poems was just fabulous. Our Aaron Rench has an interview with …