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Showing posts from December, 2015

Chesterton's The Three Wisemen

Step softly, under snow or rain,     To find the place where men can pray; The way is all so very plain     That we may lose the way.
Oh, we have learnt to peer and pore     On tortured puzzles from our youth, We know all the labyrinthine lore, We are the three wise men of yore,     And we know all things but truth.
We have gone round and round the hill     And lost the wood among the trees, And learnt long names for every ill, And serve the mad gods, naming still     The furies the Eumenides.
The gods of violence took the veil     Of vision and philosophy, The Serpent that brought all men bale, He bites his own accursed tail,     And calls himself Eternity.
Go humbly ... it has hailed and snowed...     With voices low and lanterns lit; So very simple is the road,     That we may stray from it.
The world grows terrible and white,     And blinding white the breaking day; We walk bewildered in the light, For something is too large for sight,     And something much too plai…

2015 Random Word Poetry Contest Winner

This year's winner, Ed Pacht, is from New Hampshire. Ed, a frequent contributor to this blog, has written:

Poetry is a calling. As a Christian, I consider it a sacred calling, an expression of something other than earthly. I consider this true even when, as is the case in most of these poems, the subject matter is not religious at all.

A poem represents a stepping aside from ordinariness, a suspension of the usual way of thinking, an entrance into a realm of words that point to what is beyond words. I find this to be true even in the most trivial of my poems. Even when I am making a bad pun, I find that I am not seeing as I usually see, nor thinking as I usually think. And then there are poems that speak of deep things I can barely imagine, and these too arise from extraordinary ways of thinking.

Ed used all the required words and met the guidelines for this Random Word Poetry Contest. Here is his winning poem:

Merchant-Boy’s Despair by Ed Pacht
In the southern sky flashes a clear lig…