Culture Poems
Vista
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Buoyed up by the syntheses of the past,
idyllic murals of green hills open paths
to a healing truth.
What say the brown camels of Casablanca
to assassins nursing festered wounds of
new Karma?
Yesteryears recline on the shoulders of
a greying age, chanting songs to a
......
Early One October Morning
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
The smell of humidor
Charmed the old house and
Frightened me as I ascended the
Narrow stairwell that gentle
October morning.
The song of autumn was playing
Low, and with astute grace.
Silent, the royal smell wafted between Cuba
And Denmark,
Across fat rank grass of fecund roots.
......
The Gods Of Greece
by Friedrich Schiller
Ye in the age gone by,
Who ruled the world--a world how lovely then!--
And guided still the steps of happy men
In the light leading-strings of careless joy!
Ah, flourished then your service of delight!
How different, oh, how different, in the day
When thy sweet fanes with many a wreath were bright,
O Venus Amathusia!
Then, through a veil of dreams
......
Ida Chicken
by Edgar Lee Masters
After I had attended lectures
At our Chautauqua, and studied French
For twenty years, committing the grammar
Almost by heart,
I thought I'd take a trip to Paris
To give my culture a final polish.
So I went to Peoria for a passport --
(Thomas Rhodes was on the train that morning.)
And there the clerk of the district Court
Made me swear to support and defend
......
A Letter To My Aunt
by Dylan Thomas
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry
To you, my aunt, who would explore
The literary Chankley Bore,
The paths are hard, for you are not
A literary Hottentot
But just a kind and cultured dame
Who knows not Eliot (to her shame).
Fie on you, aunt, that you should see
No genius in David G.,
No elemental form and sound
......
I Confess to a Certain Winter Night
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
The ceremony does not begin until
We hear the silent splattering of the
Snowflakes upon the shuttered mildewed
Windows lined under the haggard trees—
And by then,
The Mary Tyler Moore Show must have
Ended as fast as it had begun —
Behind the faces of muted clocks that
Tick and drop frozen nuts on the carapaces of
Slow-protesting tortoises on broad-day-light
......
Mental Lilliputians
by Igor Vykhovanets
Mental Lilliputians
A tiny pity it inspires—
Not for this was life begun.
Yet still the fool, with mind on fire,
Serves evil, and gets nothing done.
-------------------------
......
Dirge of the Last Lap
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
I
The loud, cruel laughter of dirge
besieges us so greatly in the face of
wanton humiliation.
It comes mightily, crashing our aged
city walls, unearthing the foundations of
churches,
tolling bells in pulsated grief . . .
......
A Stranger's Prayer
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Silly wisps of her raven hair flutter
In the winds of the long-short corridor of summer;
They snivel with the whims of cosseted sots,
Sinking in the futile harmony of winking beasts.
Pretty whiskers, soft with the ague of age, and lean
From frazzled grey.
A halo of white cotton crowns her fine dome, revealing little.
She paints the inky images of Al Hirschfeld —
Among whited, slit, black smuts needed for art’s emphases.
The greens of the season, lush and dreamy,
......
Heiligehuisjes
by Mario Odekerken
Langs de route verschijnen ze,
onopvallend en heilig tegelijk.
Bloemen in vazen,
kant op tafels,
beelden onder gewelfde doeken
alsof de hemel even afdaalt
tot op straatniveau.
Een stoel,een kruisbeeld,
het zachte kaarslicht
......
