Long Pius Poems

The language and images of Mario Vitale's poetry are so closely bound to the natural cycles of seasons, of generations, of the body's functioning, that is surprising to realize how many of his poems deal...

Read More

Resistance On The Iberian Peninsula

“Liberté, égalité, fraternité (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity),”
Scream French revolutionists as they guillotine monarchists heads, 1
Then crown Napoleon Bonaparte Emperor of France, 2
Who commands the French forces in wars raged across Europe.

The Grande...

Read More

For you are to be held up in
Judgement
By they so empowered;
Whose hot genes spilled from
Incumbent towers
Upon a warring continent -
The Sovereign house thus 
Pared and deflowered!
Thinning the blue bloods flowing 
Within the veins of royal...

Read More

Here, this day, on this inglorious
Field
Thy vain struggles will count no
Valour.
All hope now abandoned,
Imminent defeat unconcealed;
Erstwhile countenance display 
Such waxen, languid pallor.
Surround by your dwindling 
Forces
Ye will but sadly find...
That the stout keep of your...

Read More

Points Above and Below the Line
(Enea Canonises Catherine of Siena)

It's not a thing we go for any more, 
that hierarchy malarkey, but in fact 
the medieval mind set mega store 
by stairs and ladders. All...

Read More

The language and images of Mario Vitale's poetry are so closely bound to the natural cycles of seasons, of generations, of the body's functioning, that is surprising to realize how many of his poems deal...

Read More

This whole world is filled with lust and sin

There's not many who trust in Him

When we talk about Christianity they just give us a grin

Like we stupid or something or we filled with gin

Being a...

Read More

Back in the mists of time
Were stories sung 
Where minds in thrall by minstrels 
Were held
With tales revealing 
Viscerality and viciousness
The currency of glory and shame.

Who does not marvel at 
Achilles's pride
A ruthless killing machine...

Read More

The Conference at Mantua

Ah, what a scene of tranquil learnedness! 
The scholars nurse their tomes like babes in arms: 
white locks: heads cocked to savor the address 
of Pius, in his charming Latin: balm 

floats...

Read More

How melancholic was the silent Saint Peter's Basilica
without a melody played by the bearded deacon,
priest of the Camelites who died in sea-washed Licata;
there, the Viol was played by Angelic of Jerusalem!  
For years, it...

Read More

Anxious in Ancona (1)

His plan, as he’s boarding his baldachined barge
en route for the easterly sea,
(arthritis allowing) is giving it large,
but the pain is as bad as can be:
though Rome is his home, he must...

Read More

Anxious in Ancona (2)

The Doge has apportioned a fleet for his use,
but is proving an Indian giver.
A pope with a navy (and with a screw loose)
is no-one’s idea of chopped liver,
so Venice, delaying and playing...

Read More

In the house where I was born
We tied our laces in the dark
Then shuffled down the stairs without a lamp.
We breathed a foggy whisper
On a window webbed with frost
And we swore, and we swore,
And we...

Read More

By Izunna Okafor



Beyond the shrubs of Sahara 
Lifted a munt of brainy bond 
Over the Mississippi of Ethiopia
Lofted a penner with his hunky thoughts

Across the bridge of a foreign land
Hovered a book of beautiful pages
Tightly enclaved yet...

Read More

Sunday morning's allure peels
Pedophiles click their heels

Sunday School an open door
Fleshy choices on the floor

Parent's trust in Holy God
While evil men sheepskin shod

Eye their apples on the job
Which to tickle poke or bob

The jolly knight's...

Read More