Apr 14, 2020 | Bible Story, Gus Stevens, Irregular Rhyme, Quatrains, Seasons, Spring
I believe in the resurrection. With its birdsong and flowery filigree, springtime is a useful simile, but the meaning moves in only one direction. It is a life that was, and then was not: true flesh with dirt beneath the fingernails, an eye color that history has...
Mar 27, 2020 | Gus Stevens, Humor, Irregular Rhyme, Seasons, Spring
Day 1 You tell yourself that you are going to learn French. Instead you make coffee with milk and tell yourself it’s okay because they’ve yet to close the grocery stores; no need to break into the shelf-stable supplies. You tell yourself lies—that...
May 11, 2019 | Gus Stevens, Rhymed Couplets, Spring
They say to write what you know, but what if there is nothing left to show? Nothing to paint but green on green, and all there is to see—already seen. No fresh petals curl up from the dirt, and meaning hangs like an ill-fitting shirt: stretched and shrunken, thin and...
May 18, 2017 | Quatrains, Seasons, Spring, The Work of Greater Minds
The cherry trees bend over and are shedding On the old road where all that passed are dead, Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding This early May morn when there is none to wed. Other poems on Moss Kingdom about Spring: Spring by Edna St. Vincent...
Jul 15, 2016 | Alexandrine, Autumn, Erotic, Gus Stevens, Love, Seasons, Spring, Summer, Winter
Look my young fool, born with the Spring’s first green, our morning is all spent and now the afternoon bleeds red in the west. Will you really be so mean as to ignore the pot you set upon the coals? I want you, and the water will be boiling soon. Come, Fool,...
Mar 25, 2015 | Spring, The Work of Greater Minds
To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is...
