Best Ovid Poems

My aunt was a weirdo: she talked to trees, walked around the house naked and used to read me “The Metamorphoses” by Ovid and “The...

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Fourth canto (first part)

The deep slumber was broken in my head
By a strong thunder, so that I woke up
As person forced to arouse from bed;

My...

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Any face of before was there suppressed;
Two and no one the sinner’s wicked face
Was looking; and such way slow pace progressed.

As the green lizard when...

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Santa Monica Pier

I remember watching 
the ocean roll on the shore,
wave after wave, 
crashing down on the solid sand
and I idly staring back
wondering if the...

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Unquotable quotes: Poets, Poetasters and Platos – XXXVI

     For James McAuley – in remembrance of a memorable week in Cardiff 1965...

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Give to me your purest hands
upon each translucent finger
I shall lay a trembling kiss
setting upon each of them a precious gem...

Then tenderly I will kiss
your...

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We'll start from the beginning
A little bit of Ah and Awe
Sound out the consequential consonants
Speak low? Speak up!
Don't forget to roll your R's!

First verbs in...

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Land of Dante, Michelangelo, Vivaldi, Verdi, Vanvitelli and da Vinci;  
there Julius Caesar spoke these victorious words," Vedi, vidi, vici."
From the majestic snow-capped Alps...

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I was asked, "What is important to you?" by a friend-
she was just making conversation...
I was silent, deep in thought of diversity-
The true meaning of...

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"Sitting with Koans" 

Zazen sits zafu'd in the zendo
with the poetic monkey minds
echoing the sound of two hands clapping
producing sound bites bitten like Botticelli reprising
polishing...

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The Broken Chalice

It was way too early for me to move in,
But love conquers all, or so Ovid says,
But nothing could prepare me for the...

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Am not an aesthetic
poet.
I've no apollos
laurel in ode.
Too fragile is my
tongue to tell your
face;
For your look I dare
to speak.

Play me that
Amphion's harp
That in your mouth
dwells
For...

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Where Does the Butterfly Go?
by Michael R. Burch

for the children of the Holocaust and the Nakba

Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails,
when thunder howls,
when hailstones...

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How true it is that one can't find better friends anywhere
than in this friendly community we call, " Poetry Soup " ;
before verses sounded too...

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If my poetry moves you to witness to stranger
Just know that I'm touched that you're "sharing my ride,"
For the fact is that giving can be...

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