In an effort to publish more frequently, Goretti
Publications is offering poetry on a more regular basis
here. Published primarily in HTML (though we may eventually
publish a pdf and print version, when there's enough
material), we hope this will provide a source of good poetry
in a world which does not have enough.
A contemplation on the Gospel for the Last Sunday after Pentecost, in which the Lord instructs us on when the last day is coming and how we should know, as well as what we should do. Notably, Our Lord uses the *growth of spring*, rather than the death of autumn, as His example; this poem juxtaposes the life and growth of spring against the terror of the last day in the same way.Blackness of the Sun
O Zion!
Donald P. Goodman III
That this poem describes current events, and draws great inspiration from Psalm 136, would surprise no one even if the first line of said psalm was not posted at its head. A contemplation on the indefectibility of the Church, the new and true Zion, and the many struggles that modern Catholics have been having these recent decades with her leadership; yet also that, by following the Gospels, the Church (and the faithful) can never truly fail.O Zion!
Trapped
Donald P. Goodman III
A meditation on the feeling of being trapped. The feeling of worry, difficulty, and fear that accompanies being confined, and how the confinement itself is worse than anything that might happen during it.Trapped
The Woods, My Home
Donald P. Goodman III
Another contemplation of the sublime beauty and homey wonder of the wildwood. Some enjambment, ample alliteration, and rich imagery combine to make an emotional appeal. The whole is intended to evoke a sense of wonder in the forest, a place that we all too often take for granted, or even ignore entirely.The Woods, My Home
I Hide Deep in the Woods
Donald P. Goodman III
Some strong imagery accompanied by line-by-line alliteration decorate this ode to the woods, of which the author has many great memories, and where he feels truly at home. I Hide Deep in the Woods
O Rex Magne
Donald P. Goodman III
A Latin poem or hymn composed in the same meter as the legendary Dies Irae, this piece contemplates the reign of Christ the King, His main titles for rule, and expresses our profound love and praise for Him. O Rex Magne
Deeper Joy
Donald P. Goodman III
A love poem the author composed for his wife for St. Valentine's day, this work meditates on the struggles and trials of a long marriage, and how with the help of the good God those struggles yield a stronger marriage and a deeper joy. Deeper Joy
The Long Defeat
Donald P. Goodman III
J.R.R. Tolkien once said “I am a Christian, and
indeed a Roman Catholic, so that I do not expect
‘history’ to be anything but a ‘long defeat’—though
it contains (and in a legend may contain may
clearly and movingly) some samples of glimpses of
final victory.” This poem meditates a bit on the
“long defeat”: why we must suffer it, and our only
option for getting through it.
The Long Defeat
Winter's Rain
Donald P. Goodman III
Reflecting on how, in spring, a
rainstorm is a pleasant and joyful thing, but that a
rainstorm in winter is a miserable, cold, even painful
event. It contemplates the violence in even the most
serene scenes in nature, and how beauty lies even in
these painful things.
Winter's Rain
Let All Men Wear the Purple
Donald P. Goodman III
This dozzet, notable for its breathless enjambment making the first eight lines essentially one, meditates on the "long night" of Advent, and the benefits of "embracing the purple": that is, doing penance, as one of the few really good things we can do in this world as we await the next.
Let All Men Wear the Purple
The Annunciation
Justin G. Smith
We are thrilled to publish our
first poem by author Justin G. Smith, a sonnet
meditating on the mystery of the Annuncation.
The Annunciation
The Angel and the Ass
Donald P. Goodman III
Begun (though not finished) on the feast of St. Francis, this poem is a contemplation on the great saint's view of life and the world. It describes his extreme and beautiful poverty, and eventually draws in his constant comparison of his own body to his "brother the ass", and noting that by treating his brother the ass like an ass and his own soul like an angel, he became far greater than both.
The Angel and the Ass
Virtue Won, Then Lost
Donald P. Goodman III
Another sonnet written in the strict Petrarchan form, we contemplate how difficult is to get virtue; but also how difficult it might be to keep it. And, once it is lost, how difficult it is to regain.
Virtue Won, Then Lost
The Land of Our Bones
Donald P. Goodman III
Our first in a while, this poem with its interesting rhyme and metrical scheme looks at the concept of ancestral land, and how deeply connected we can be to it. It does so through the land of my own ancesters, still in my family, where my grandfather was buried.
The Land of Our Bones
The Mother Flame
Donald P. Goodman III
A sonnet, the first in a long time, along the strict Petrarchan rhyme scheme (ABBAABBACDCDCD). This familiar sonnet form with somewhat unusual rhyme scheme is refreshing, and resists attempts to close the poem on a cheap, short point. This poem borrows imagery concerning the spread of *ideas* like that of flames, that we can pass our ideas to others and yet lose nothing of them ourselves.
The Mother Flame
To Walk
Donald P. Goodman III
We talk about two of the great migrations in nature, and how impressive and truly marvelous it is that, by such small things as single steps, we can do such great things.
To Walk
On His Brother
Donald P. Goodman III
If you knew my brother, you may want to skip this one. It very frankly and honestly deals with my worries, my feelings, and my thoughts about my brother and his death, and is extremely explicit. He died many months ago, and only now have I been able to put something of this into verse. I can never put it well; but perhaps this puts it adequately.
On His Brother
Arise! and face the demons
Donald P. Goodman III
Many of us face demons, literal and figurative, which torment us. This poem reminds us of the power of those demons, but also of their lack of power, due to the One Who can help us.
Arise! and face the demons
Become the Ash
Donald P. Goodman III
A contemplation for Ash Wednesday. While we all know the symbolism of the ashes and the destruction of flesh, this poem ties it into the symbolism of the refiner's fire, and how we must purify our souls by burning out that which is corrupt.
Become the Ash
Sheltering Limbs
Donald P. Goodman
A brief rumination on the worlds that can shelter beneath a grand old tree, and the inadequacy of the sapling to match it.
Sheltering Limbs
Adamantine Vessels
Donald P. Goodman III
Our souls cannot be filled with material things; but they can be filled by immaterial ones. Comparing them to glass, which cannot be filled with stuff but can be filled by light, this poem explores that theme.
Adamantine Vessels
I Tie the Cord
Donald P. Goodman III
An exploration of the symbolism of the saints' cords and what they might mean.
I Tie the Cord
The Emptiness That Fills
Donald P. Goodman III
Comparing and contrasting the ever-full flow of the river to the lake to the sea, with the emptiness which fills; that is, the fact that we can really only fill ourselves by emptying ourselves out first.
The Emptiness That Fills
Christmas, 1203
Donald P. Goodman III
Another poem of paradoxes, this one offers some reflections on the most massive and difficult paradox: the Creator become a creature.
Christmas, 1203
The Thirst Which Drowns
Donald P. Goodman III
A poem of paradoxes, comparing thirst and hunger to filling, and the need to empty ourselves before we can be filled.
The Thirst Which Drowns
Elixir of Life
Donald P. Goodman III
In anapestic heptameter for the first time in a long time, this poem explores the wonderful properties of the world's most common substance, and remarks on how powerful and yet how perfectly taken for granted it truly is.
Elixir of Life
Advent 1203
Donald P. Goodman III
An alliterative look at Advent and the physical signs of the season.
Advent 1203
The Two Cities
Donald P. Goodman
A long alliterative poem, published in parts, and heavily symbolic and allegorical. It explores two great cities and their relationship to one another, and how one can (or cannot) pass between them.
The Two Cities
The title says it, really; a few
brief thoughts on Good Friday, linking it to the day of
the Fall. Worth lining up alongside The Worst of Days.
Good Friday, 1203
The Savage Beast
Donald P. Goodman III
A new take on the familiar (familiar, at least, to classical philosophy students) analogy of the wild horse, with an added notion of Brother Ass and how he should be treated.
The Savage Beast
The Sign of Life
Donald P. Goodman III
A very short but evocative look at the color red and its role in the springtime.
The Sign of Life
The Bird Sings for Me
Donald P. Goodman
An unusual meter for me, this poem explores the idea that Providence has designed any given moment specifically for each one of us.
The Bird Sings for Me
Uncaring Sky
Donald P. Goodman III
A long poem which contemplates both the ancient pagan and modern pagan notions of the universe, and how unsatisfying they must be; and finally, propose the Christian vision as the answer.
Uncaring Sky
Against the Flow
Donald P. Goodman III
Noting that many things are very easy, but that there is no praise in them; and that the true glory of being a free creature is the ability to do what is good even though it is hard.
Against the Flow
More Beauty Sought
Donald P. Goodman III
A short poem, really more of a versification, with a brief message about the greatest of our temptations.
More Beauty Sought
The Snow
Donald P. Goodman III
We so often hear of a "blanket of snow." This poem explores the concept a bit, particularly its contradictions.
The Snow
The Stone and the Raindrop
Donald P. Goodman III
We see how certain things in nature, though tiny and visibly insignificant, have huge effects well beyond their immediate impact, and contemplate what that means for our own deeds.
The Stone and the Raindrop
Rejoice, For Thou Shalt Die
Donald P. Goodman III
An attempt to juxtapose some ideas which are generally considered antithetical---joy and death---and unite them in a single rumination.
Rejoice, For Thou Shalt Die
A Fickle Feeling
Donald P. Goodman III
A dozzet on what is solid and what is changeable, and the relative values of each.
A Fickle Feeling
The Tower Above the Cloud
Donald P. Goodman III
An interesting format (two lines of two anapests followed by one of four), this poem for Christmas of 1202 contemplates the salvific light brought by the Savior, piercing through every cloud and mist.
The Tower Above the Cloud
The Creeping Cold of Night
Donald P. Goodman III
Another Advent-themed poem,
exploring the retreat of nature beneath the soil in the
wintertime, the encroaching cold, and the salvation from death offered by the sun.
The Creeping Cold of Night
The Mother and the Child
Donald P. Goodman III
A contemplation of the love of the mother for her child; the love of the child for the mother; and the incredible depth of the connection when the two are combined.
The Mother and the Child
Advent 1202
Donald P. Goodman III
An offering in the idiosyncratic anapestic heptameter, contemplating the earth-shattering nature of the coming of Christ.
Advent 1202
The Vast Forever
Donald P. Goodman III
Yet another attempt to contemplate the incredible scope of the universe in time and space, and how small we are in comparison to it.
The Vast Forever
We are Goldfish
Donald P. Goodman III
A double dozzet, describing the hugeness of time and space, and how tiny we all are in comparison.
We are Goldfish
Enthusiasm
Donald P. Goodman III
A very short comparison of enthusiasm and real love.
Enthusiasm
The Vast Expanse
Donald P. Goodman III
A poem exploring how huge the universe is, and how hopeless the task of comprehending it for finite creatures.
The Vast Expanse
Seek Not for Youth
Donald P. Goodman III
Starting out with some strong imagery, this piece ponders the modern pursuit of youth and how fruitless and nonsensical it is.
Seek Not for Youth
Castles Made of Sand
Donald P. Goodman III
Thoughts on the fleeting nature of even our strongest enthusiasms.
Castles Made of Sand
The Paradox of Life
Donald P. Goodman III
A series of paradoxes that apply to life in general, and note the ultimate meaninglessness of death when life itself is properly understood. A few tougher rhymes in this one.
The Paradox of Life
A brief rumination on the symbolic
importance of fasting, here in an Ember week.
Pouring
A Plague Infects the Roses
Donald P. Goodman III
Another poem ruminating on the
current ecclesiastical crisis. This one again starts
very dark, and the use of enjambment in the first dozzet
serves to make the reader feel harried and breathless;
but it does turn up in the second and third dozzet.
A Plague
Infects the Roses
A Nightmare Neverending
Donald P. Goodman III
A nightmare. That is, literally a
nightmare, the feelings that many of us are having during
these dark times. Of course, God is there to resolve
them; but for this poem, we focus on our own inability to
do so.
A Nightmare Neverending
Uncertainty
Donald P. Goodman III
A rumination on the fact that,
though many things are predictable, very few are certain;
the birds and the flowers prepare for winter, but they're
really just guessing, and sometimes they're early or
late. We really know very little about the world around
us.
Uncertainty
The Death of Christendom
Donald P. Goodman III
An alliterative poem, which at
length explores the rise and fall of what we knew as
Christendom, and concludes with hope for its
resurrection.
The Death of Christendom
The Vast Ripostes
Donald P. Goodman III
A contemplation on the way our
coasts are formed over countless years, and the way that
such a peaceful environment is formed by such huge
conflict.
The Vast Ripostes
The Lay of Lady Poverty
Donald P. Goodman III
Another alliterative piece, this one
laments the incredible, indeed indescribable, agony
thatis hunger; yet then goes on to ponder why and how one
might embrace it. Obvious allusions to St. Francis's
Lady Poverty.
The Lay of Lady
Poverty
Comes Now the Rain
Donald P. Goodman III
A paean to the life-giving
refreshment of the rain, which brings water to quench the
thirst and cool the heat.
Comes Now the Rain
Defeat Oneself
Donald P. Goodman III
Along the lines of Defeat
Thyself, a slightly different rumination on the
importance of conquering onself before attempting to
conquer one's enemies.
Defeat Oneself
To a Father
Donald P. Goodman III
A dozzet concerning the influence of a father on a man's
life, even if the man himself doesn't realize it.
To a Father
The Phoenix
Donald P. Goodman III
A new take on an old metaphor. The phoenix does, as
usual, represent the cycle of birth and death, here it is
turned to a singular purpose.
The Phoenix
A Poet on his Father
Donald P. Goodman III
Our first alliterative poem, this details the
emotions and thoughts of the poet on the death of
his father, and beseeches the prayers of the reader
for him.
A Poet on his Father
The Goldfish
Donald P. Goodman III
We consider the goldfish, famous for his short
attention span and tiny perspective, and imagine
him as having man's assurance of the completeness
of his knowledge. We note that this assurance is
foolish, and consider how foolish man's must be,
as well, given the shortness of our time on earth
and how little of the universe we can know.
The Goldfish
Come, See the Smoke
Donald P. Goodman III
A loving examination of the beautiful symbolism of incense and the thurible at Mass, trying to encompass the sight, sound, and smell of it.
Come, See the Smoke
The Silver Light
Donald P. Goodman III
Presenting the figure of a lady in the night, and then the moon in the sky, we compare and eventually identify these two, and note how the cool, silvery light of the moon is ultimately just the warm, golden light of the sun reflected onto earth. The comparison to the Blessed Virgin Mary is immediately evident; and we note that moonlight can be just as good as sunlight for those who are blind, if that's what they're able to see.
The Silver Light
The Dove of Fire
Donald P. Goodman III
Amidst the rejoicing of Pentecost, this poem
was written. It's not subtle, but it does aptly
express the joy of the Christian at the coming
of the Holy Spirit. Combining the two primary
symbols of the Holy Spirit (the dove and the
flame), we contemplate how the Holy Ghost comes
in after the Ascension. It echoes some of the
symbolism from our earlier poem for Easter,
Alleluia! The Sun
has Arisen, but I think that's fair
theologically and historically, given that
the works of the Three Persons are the
works of each and every, and that Christ
Himself was incarnate of the Holy Spirit.
The Dove of Fire
The Lady Cardinal
Donald P. Goodman III
In continued keeping with our recent nature
theme, we turn now to the female cardinal.
Less showy (some would say less gaudy) than her
mate, the female cardinal has a unique beauty all
her own. We contemplate that beauty and how it
speaks to us.
The Lady Cardinal
The Cardinal
Donald P. Goodman III
In keeping with our nature theme for the last two
weeks, we present another poem concerning the lovely
sights of spring. The cardinal remains in the area for
the winter, of course, but one caught my eye on a walk
recently, and in the lovely spring day this poem came out
of it.
The Cardinal
The Dandelion, Revisited
Donald P. Goodman III
We have already addressed this beautiful little flower
once before; here, in
honor of their blooming once again in this beautiful
spring, we honor them again.
The
Dandelion, Revisited
All Hail the Spring!
Donald P. Goodman III
Inspired by my daily walks this spring, this poem
poured forth. Less "deep" than most of the recent work
I've posted, this is pure revelry in the beauties of
spring, with only brief reflection on how brief those
beauties are, and how they will return again. Also
written entirely in couplets, which is an unusual form
for me.
All Hail the Spring!
My Brother
Donald P. Goodman III
St. Francis famously referred to his body as his
"brother the ass," referring to its brutishness and the
difficulty of controlling it. St. Thomas Aquinas also
compared defeating temptation to supporting one side in a
fight: we feed the fighter we hope will win, but we
deprive the fighter we hope will lose. So when we fight
aspects of our selves, we starve those aspects, and feed
the aspects that we wish to rise and win. This poem
echoes both these metaphors, along with a modernized
version of one of Plato's famous analogies about the
passions as opposed to the reason.
My Brother
Defeat Thyself
Donald P. Goodman III
Some reflections on the fact that we're constantly
fighting everything around us, never happy with anything
that happens or anything that we have, when the real
enemy is within us, ourselves; and that if we
get our selves under control, we've gone a long way to
controlling what is wrong with us.
Defeat Thyself
Alleluia! The Sun has Arisen!
Donald P. Goodman III
Last week we had a somber
poem for Holy Week; this week we have a very
joyful and upbeat poem for Easter week. Reflecting on a
number of the great joys of the Resurrection, this poem
takes the unusual tack of rhyming all four lines of each
verse on the same sound. Although the analogy of the Son
to the sun is obvious, the fact that in American English
the words "son" and "sun" are pronounced identically (at
least, in all dialects with which I am familiar) does
benefit the symbolism here.
Alleluia! The Sun
has Arisen!
The Worst of Days
Donald P. Goodman III
A somber poem for Holy Week. A new style that I have
not tried before, but which I think accomplishes the
task.
The Worst of Days
By Stone and Fire
Donald P. Goodman III
Back to anapestic heptameter this week, we explore the
nature of changing oneself, and how any real change in
oneself will require suffering, by analogizing to the
building of a traditional Native American canoe.
By Stone and Fire
Fear not Death
Donald P. Goodman III
A three-dozzet series on death, and the ultimate
hopelessness of life in the absence of a supernatural
destination. Decidedly downbeat for most of its length,
it ends on an upnote. Inspired by some comments on the
death of my father, though certainly not a historical
account of such.
Fear not Death
Spilled Blood
Donald P. Goodman III
Much less ominous (though no less portentous) than its
title implies, this poem ponders the nature of love,
intentionally invoking Shakespeare's famous love sonnet
while turning it in a completely different direction.
Spilled Blood
Mysteries
Donald P. Goodman III
Cups and oceans! Inspired by an old story of St.
Augustine contemplating the Trinity, this poem explores
the notion of knowledge by comparing what can be held in
the sea with what can be held in a cup. A dozzet.
Mysteries
Lady Poverty
Donald P. Goodman III
A dozzet meditating on St. Francis's great love, "Lady
Poverty." Most of us, of course, don't embrace Lady
Poverty with the enthusiasm of St. Francis; but in Lent,
we do certainly (or should certainly, at least) improve
our acquaintance with her. This poem ruminates on the
importance of Lady Poverty and fasting, and how it can be
a profit for us in life.
Lady Poverty
Gazing Skyward
Donald P. Goodman III
A new type of poem (for me), written in the terza
rima which Italian poetry, especially Dante, has
justly made so famous. We see little of it in
English-language literature. Here, we contemplate the
fact that we can see the infinite sky, but only through
the muddying medium of the atmosphere and the clouds, and
whether we can be happy with this vision.
Gazing Skyward
Light of the Moon
Donald P. Goodman III
A dozzet, reflecting on the moon and the nature of its
light, with meaning for the role of the Blessed Virgin
Mary, and the saints, in reference to the Light of the
world.
Light of the
Moon
Virginal Milk
Donald P. Goodman III
Yet again in anapestic heptameter, this poem was
inspired by one of St. Thérèse of Lisieux,
which spoke of lait virginal, along with the
famous story of St. Bernard of Clairvaux. Taking some
obvious cues from Revelations, Chapter 10 (decimal
twelve), it reflects on how if we seek to imitate Christ,
we should imitate also His feelings about His mother.
Virginal Milk
Road to Eden
Donald P. Goodman III
More anapestic heptameter, this poem explores the
"happy fault" of St. Thomas Aquinas, and the reality of
original sin, which seems so unjust to so many, when
really it's a great gift (as well as not being unjust in
any way). I'm particularly happy with some of the
alliteration (e.g., "long-ago garden agleam"), but think
the rhythm, topic, and imagery fit together well.
Road to Eden
Not as a Man Grows Old
Donald P. Goodman III
Inspired by a line from "For the Fallen" by Robert
Lawrence Binyon ("They shall not grow old, as we that are
left grow old: / Age shall not wither them, nor the
years condemn"), I've written this dozzet about a very
different topic. While we ourselves weaken and
eventually die, tradition---especially Sacred
Tradition---improves and strengthens over time.
Not as a Man
Grows Old
Winter's Joy
Donald P. Goodman III
Back to anapestic heptameter! This is my second poem
in anapestic heptameter (after The Woman in the Meadow),
and it's a delightful meter for English poetry. Somehow,
it manages to remain a light-hearted, natural rhythm
without excluding the gravity of more traditional iambic
meters. This poem has a great deal of internal rhyme
(universally on the third line of a verse, optionally
one other lines), and explores themes of the season of
winter and the death that accompanies it in a decidedly
hopeful way.
Winter's Joy
Hail, woman!
Donald P. Goodman III
A longer poem, made up of three dozzets, on the
mystery of childbirth and child-raising and the immense
power of woman that is tied up therewith. Though only
the last dozzet ends in a couplet, this also contains
pretty clear echoes of St. Francis's Canticle of the Sun.
Hail,
woman!
Christmas 1201
Donald P. Goodman III
A poem for the season of Christmas. Emphasizes the
elements of full-swollen pregnancy and fullness of time,
and the mind-bending notion of a human being giving birth
to her own Creator (and the Creator of everything else).
Christmas
1201
Advent 1201
Donald P. Goodman III
A poem for the season of Advent. Interesting for its
use of enjambment in almost the entirety of the first
eight lines, calling to mind the "smothering" that is
referenced early on. Read it out loud to see what it
means; one must do so almost in a single breath.
Advent
1201
The Hero's Tale
Donald P. Goodman III
A heavily symbolic examination of a hero's voyage from
his natural, fallen state to the possession of virtue
and, eventually, truth. Written as a series of dozzets,
I'm very excited about it. It is lengthy,
basically a mini-epic; as a result, it was published in
parts. The first part was published ; the
last on , or nearly three months later.
The
Hero's Tale
Pursue the Sun
Donald P. Goodman III
Attempting again to use the red-green-white symbolism
to good effect, this poem also mixes in some Marian
imagery.
Pursue the
Sun
On Motherhood
Donald P. Goodman III
Obviously inspired by William Ross Wallace's "The Hand
that Rocks the Cradle Rules the World," this poem
explores the huge influence a mother has on her child,
and the deep relationship between them.
On
Motherhood
Wisdom's Mother Tongue
Donald P. Goodman III
A bit more prosaic (insofar as that makes sense in a
poetical context) than most of our posts have been of
late, this dozzet-plus-couplet explores the great
treasury of knowledge that Christians (and specifically
Catholics) have built up over the centuries, and how, as
we gradually abandon our mother tongue, we're losing
access to our own glorious heritage, a heritage which
belongs to the Church and to all mankind.
Wisdom's
Mother Tongue
On Virtue
Donald P. Goodman III
Though still sort of a dozzet, this poem is a bit
different structurally than the others. Each quatrain is
grouped as a separate verse, and the first and third
lines of each are divided into two rhyming half-lines,
with the second and fourth rhyming each other at the end
and their accompanying half-lines halfway through. It's
simpler to read than to describe; think of it as an
alexandrine version of The Raven's structure.
Using traditional color imagery, this poem briefly
contemplates the virtues. Enjoy.
On Virtue
On the Great American Eclipse
Donald P. Goodman III
On 19 August 1201, the United States was host to a
solar eclipse that was visible nowhere but in its
territory, lending it the name "the Great American
Eclipse". This was a full solar eclipse; and though many
of us only were able to see a partial eclipse, the
experience of even so much (I last saw one some two dozen
years ago or so) was moving, and inspired this piece.
On the Great
American Eclipse
I See the Spinning Stars
Donald P. Goodman III
Another dozzet, this one focusing on the heavens,
which have traditionally been viewed as a symbol of
Divine Providence (in contradiction of the silliness that
is astrology).
I See the
Spinning Stars
To Delve into the Water
Donald P. Goodman III
A dozzet which is (clearly, I hope) about baptism, and
the freedom and peace that it offers us, even though it
does not necessarily offer us an easy journey
there. There's a great deal of alliteration as well as
the standard dozzet meter and rhyme here; I hope that it
achieves its aim.
To Delve into
the Water
Life to Live
Donald P. Goodman III
A dozzet again in a generally happy vein, discussing
the vicissitudes of time, but also the amazing gift of
it. It again shows some experimentation with some
deliberate alliteration along with rhyme.
Life to Live
Two Hearts
Donald P. Goodman III
This dozzet is a love poem, again focusing on the very
important distinction between love and feeling. Everyone
is joyful on their wedding day ("[w]hen two are
join'd to one"), but eventually that enthusiasm
will wear off, and something much deeper than
mere emotional or physical attraction will be required.
Only love can sustain the two then. Rather than wrapping
up the dozzet in twelve lines, an envoi couplet
sews the threads together.
Two Hearts
Born to Sorrow
Donald P. Goodman III
Back to sonnets, at least for now. This one quite
simply contemplates suffering and its role in love and
happiness in our lives.
Born to Sorrow
The Moment Now
Donald P. Goodman III
A dozzet doing the nearly stereotypical comparison
between time and a river, with the usual statements about
never stepping in the same river twice, and so forth.
However, it ends with a couplet that concludes something
different from the usual time-river ruminations. I think
that this is interesting different from most such poems.
The Moment Now
Rest in Peace
Donald P. Goodman III
A series of four dozzets which explore the utter
meaninglessness of life and death in the absence of some
spiritual reality, and the greatness of both when a
deeper significance is understood. Much less bleak that
Our Only Certainty, which
ends without any hint of redeeming joy, this poem starts
out very bleak but ends with real hope and joy.
Rest in Peace
Our Only Certainty
Donald P. Goodman III
Another of the new poetical form (which I'm
ridiculously referring to internally as the "dozzet"),
along the lines of The
Dandelion, this poem focuses relentlessly on the more
depressing aspects of our world; specifically, on the
fact that everything in it will eventually end, and that
this ending is really the only certainty we have about
it.
Our Only
Certainty
The Dandelion
Donald P. Goodman III
I have often thought the dandelion to be one of the
prettiest of all flowers; yet it is commonly derided as
merely a useless weed. That's a real shame. This poem
is an ode to the dandelion. It's also a bit of an
experiment with a new poetical form, which when crafting
this piece I found truly powerful. It is twelve lines of
twelve iambic feet each; but each line is not limited to
the alexandrine, but can be divided however the syllables
work best. I hope the reader enjoys reading the form as
much as I enjoyed writing it.
The
Dandelion
Death Has Been Cheated Once
Donald P. Goodman III
This poem, quite like The Raven in its meter
and rhyme scheme, provides some more thoughts on life and
death, and how we ought to face both; and further, it
reminds us that some have already done so, and that we
should look to them for example.
Death Has Been
Cheated Once
The Fire Which Does Not Consume
Donald P. Goodman III
A shorter poem (two dozen lines) with a shorter
message, taking some symbolism from Dante in the last
stanza. Iambic tetrameter in lines 1-2 and 4-5, but
iambic hexadecameter in lines 3 and 6, of each sestet.
Interesting in its symbolism of the flame and the stars,
and also interesting in providing an iambic form of Poe's
trochaic meter in The Raven.
The Fire
Which Does Not Consume
The Question
Donald P. Goodman III
A longish narrative-type poem, this piece explores the
subject of death and how it has perplexed mankind
throughout the ages. It's the first significant piece
I've written in blank verse, and it's also my most
overtly Christian poem so far published. It points out
that Christianity doesn't make suffering hurt less; it
just gives meaning to the suffering that we all must
endure.
The Question
The Tholing Child
Donald P. Goodman III
Sporting an unusual rhyme scheme (tercets with rhyming
first two lines, followed by a third line which matches
the first two lines of the following tercet), this poem
not only uses the excellent word "thole," but also
explores interesting themes relating to Providence.
The Tholing Child
The Ant
Donald P. Goodman III
This poem continues our theme of exploring various
elements of nature and what they can teach us about life
and what lies beyond. Here, we consider the ant, and the
single-minded purpose of his narrow world, and how that
compares to we ourselves. Structurally, it's
interesting, as well; its four-line stanzas are rhymed in
lines 1, 2, and 4, with line 3 rhyming with lines 1, 2,
and 4 of the following stanza.
The Ant
The Oak
Donald P. Goodman III
This poem, at 22 (twenty-six) lines, is a rumination
on age, development, wisdom, and tradition. A bit of an
oddball, as it consists of four-line stanzas rhymed at
the second and fourth lines, but ends with a rhymed
couplet. I think it's interesting.
The Oak
The Tulip Grows
Donald P. Goodman III
Not a sonnet! This poem, still relatively
short at 30 (thirty-six) lines, uses only two rhymes. A
meditation on the relationship between suffering and
love. Just as the tulip blooms in the spring, but loses
its bloom in summer and must endure tremendous hardship
in the fall and winter in order to bloom again, so love
is at first nothing but color and joy, but eventually
becomes difficult and hard. But without these hardships,
love just isn't love.
The Tulip
Grows
As Rain and Field
Donald P. Goodman III
Another sonnet; but in a bit of change of pace, a
love poem. We contemplate a few of the many
analogies that poets have used for the lover pursuing his
beloved---the thirsty seeking water, the bee seeking
flowers, the plant seeking light---and observe that our
love for our beloved is of a very different, and much
more mutual, kind. It's also pretty unique in that it
uses only three rhymes in 12 (decimal fourteen)
lines, hopefully helping to give the lie to the notion
that rhyming poetry somehow "doesn't work" in English.
As Rain and
Field
The Woman in the Meadow
Donald P. Goodman III
A longer poem (though still short, only 24 (that's
twenty-eight) lines), this piece is written in anapestic
heptameter, while nearly all my metered work is simple
iambic pentameter. A meditation on the limits of earthly
justice and deep in symbolism, I hope that the reader
will find it enlightening, or at least enjoyable.
The Woman in
the Meadow
The Cave
Donald P. Goodman III
This little sonnet is
essentially a meditation on Plato's famous allegory
of the cave. Another Petrarchan sonnet (though
modified in the sestet), like The Seed of Sorrow,
The
Cave is particularly interesting for its use of
enjambment (informally called "run-on lines"), where the
meaning carries over multiple lines, especially in
lines 3--5. The Cave
The Seed of Sorrow
Donald P. Goodman III
The sonnet is an
unfortunately much-neglected form these days, and yet
one of my favorites. Some of the best poetry in the
history of the modern English language has been
composed in this simple, unqua-two (fourteen) line
format. The Seed of Sorrow is Petrarchan in
rhyme scheme, and composed in the traditional iambic
pentameter. Enjoy.
The Seed of Sorrow
The Red Disc
Donald P. Goodman III
Fans of (or at least
readers of) Stephen Crane may remember the imagery of
the red disc of the sun in The Red Badge of
Courage. I've always found this to be a
powerful image, but sorely misused in that work.
This poem describes a personal journey (not
my personal journey, merely that of some
person) where the red disc may still mean a wound,
but not a wound of some war between feuding factions;
and which has meaning far beyond such a small
conflict. The Red Disc
Thanatopsis: A Reply to William
Cullen Bryant
Donald P. Goodman III
William Cullen Bryant's
classic poem Thanatopsis ("view of death") is still
read in most American schools as an example of early
nineteenth-century American poetry, and it is a fine example
of that. Prior to Whitman, Bryant was likely the most
famous of American poets. However, Thanatopsis
provides what Christians would likely believe to be a very
simplistic and depressing view of death. This poem tries to
follow Bryant's lead while still giving a more enlightening
view of its topic. Thanatopsis:
An Answer to William Cullen Bryant