Archive for Contemporary Poetry

Milton vs. Gerwig*

Milton vs. Gerwig* by Paul J. Willis First came Adam, then came Eve— an afterthought, I do believe. But first came Barbie, then came Ken. When you’ve got Margot, who needs men? *Orlando Reade, “Greta Gerwig’s Paradise Lost,” Literary Hub 23 August 2023 —from Losing Streak

Read More

A Few Miles above Tintern Abbey

A Few Miles above Tintern Abbey by Paul J. Willis I’m fairly certain that I saw      the abbey from the air— or, at least, the River Wye      still gently winding there. The evening gloom was settling in      with clouds in drifts and drecks, as on my way from London town      I flew to LAX. This […]

Read More

Losing Streak

Losing Streak by Paul J. Willis Contrail crossing sky,      contrary to the eye— wild blue abraded (why?)      into a gassy sty. —from Losing Streak

Read More

Winter Valentine

Winter Valentine by Paul J. Willis When I have the flu,      will you, my Valentine,      make chicken stew? Or when I say achoo!      will you, my Valentine,      leave for Peru? When I don’t have a clue,      will you, my Valentine,      provide a few? Oh do and don’t and do!      For you, O Valentine,      are my […]

Read More

Oleander

Oleander by Paul J. Willis      (Nerium oleander) Oleander! Take a gander at these whorls of creamy flowers. If you eat them, you’ll deplete them and destroy your mortal hours. Yet by highways and in byways you will see them bloom and thrive. In Hiroshima it may seem a miracle: They stayed alive. —from Losing Streak

Read More

Reassurance

Reassurance by Paul J. Willis      for Tom Schmidt My friend the scholar now supposes violets blue and red the roses are the limit of his poses as a poet when his prose is Matthew, Mark, and Luke (and Moses). What he writes and what he knows is fit and fine, and sweet encloses. —from Losing […]

Read More

Song of the Mosquito

Song of the Mosquito by Paul J. Willis I whine by day, I whine by night; your flesh, it whets my appetite. Within your powers do what you may— you can swat or you can spray— but in the end I will succeed and pierce your skin to fill my need. For God made me […]

Read More

Stevens Park

Stevens Park by Paul J. Willis Purple sage and purple nightshade, mingled in the morning sun, wild roses and nasturtium, sweet bay laurel lately won by our recent poet laureate, who, if she by chance were here, would give words to each new blossom, rhyme to scan this time of year. But since she dwells […]

Read More

Sticky Notes

Sticky Notes by Paul J. Willis The sticky notes upon my desk remind me of my tasks to do. They flap in rows and shout, grotesque, a never-ending, raucous crew. O sticky notes, O sticky notes, I hear you and I will obey. But first I must go feel my oats instead of dully making […]

Read More

The Way It Goes

The Way It Goes by Paul J. Willis That’s the way it goes for amateurs and pros— the ball goes out of bounds. That’s the way it goes. That’s the way it goes, marching all in rows— someone’s Waterloo. That’s the way it goes. That’s the way it goes, the lily and the rose— their […]

Read More