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. … [Read more...]
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 … [Read more...]
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 … [Read more...]
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. … [Read more...]
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. … [Read more...]
Billy Collins and Other Sentimentalists
Just finished reading The Trouble With Poetry by Billy Collins (and other poems, the subtitle helpfully adds), and was struck by how metaphor handles are on everything, and how you just need to know how to find them. Most people just look at things right side up, but others -- … [Read more...]
Rocks in the Drive
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 told How holiness tastes, how righteousness laughs. You shall be as God, the great … [Read more...]
Our Lady of Westminster
Marian obedience, the jewelry of God, has adorned the gracious necks of many women, hearts rejoicing in God their … [Read more...]
The Prosaic Ceiling
Indulge me for a moment. I am working through a volume of poetry by Robert Siegel, The Waters Under the Earth, which I am really enjoying. I would enourage you to do the same. Get it today! Christmas is coming! But in the course of reading him, some unsettled thoughts about … [Read more...]
Thomas
So poetry is broken speech, Metaphor shattered. Not broken prose But prose broken- That resurrection power Might be displayed, And like the Word These tiny words Can also then be called and named sons of God. Yet how many men Have been crucified? With broken legs, They … [Read more...]