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Poetry

He picked grape hyacinth

and brought it to me,

asking what it was.

 

He asks what bird

makes that peculiar call.

Woodpeckers fascinate him.

At the age of three

all the world is wonder….

 

While I caution him

not to eat the tiny hyacinth,

I’m thinking that purple pyramid

looks good enough to eat.

 

The problem with adults

is that they have shed

the cloak of wonder

that breathes at their feet—

their heads are too high

from verdant earth.


Early to rise

in greeny surprise

 

Bright aconite

at early dawn light

 

Glimpse of robin wing

surging hope of spring

 

Grass going green

in gold-brown dream

 

Banish all mortal fear

with springy time near

 

Insects appear

fly in your ear

 

Daffodils near bloom

to banish gloom

 

Woodshed door

needed no more

 

Geese honking loud

low wet blue cloud

 

Pleasant to tread

soft squishy mud

 

Ready the plough

as kittens meow


Clustered daffodils swaying on green hill

evoke fervent desire in my will

to embrace vivid dreams of Spring—

accomplish this or that ambitious thing!

Shrugging off winter’s icy stagnation,

burdened with vacant imagination,

I grow more relaxed with lengthening day

as I glimpse the glory of mild May.

 

I say this to all my friends at table:

daffodils frolicking in gentle breeze

present an emblem of honest friendship,

an inspiring ideal for those able

to see God in nature and men’s eyes,

as much as He appears in breast or lip.


Just a note

to remind everyone

that you may

be reborn

if you visit

a waterfall

in springtime:

 

breathe in

ionized air

as your eye

roves over

water rushing

to a horizon

you have yet

to enter.


Palms lay strewn before me.

I knew that was a vanity

I would someday pay

for, yet I did not see

that it would eventually be

such an immense agony.

 

The roar of the raucous crowd

meant nothing to me

as long as friends stood by me.

Shouts of “Hosanna” rang loud,

so I knew Herod heard me.

 

What I did not foresee

was that Pontius Pilate

would take such an interest in me;

he was jealous, full of hate.

In the end Herod held my fate,

while my friends abandoned me.

 

I had worked such wonders,

I thought my friends would stand by me.

Yet the might of the Roman army

can pierce the lungs of the Father’s defenders


by Kevin T. McEneaney in Poetry
Tue Aug 1st, 2017

A drab tooth-bitten pencil with

its innumerable shadows and wayward squiggles

lolls between my blunt thumb

and elegant middle finger

like a scalpel ready to open up

fissures in language,...

by Kevin T. McEneaney in Poetry
Thu Jul 20th, 2017

                                                           ...

by Kevin T. McEneaney in Poetry
Wed Jul 12th, 2017

The Mouth who made America great again

denied all science, allowed lead in water,

permitted unlimited air pollution,

encouraged all bigots to feel mightier.

 

The Mouth that governed by...

by Kevin T. McEneaney in Poetry
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My lover’s body is nothing at all

like glossy pics in upscale magazines

depicting coats, hats, shoes, vests, overalls,

lingerie, ties, underwear or sweaters.

Absent is that vacuous model gaze...

by Kevin T. McEneaney in Poetry
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Do you know who you are, why you are here?

Can you live your life without any fear?

Fear of death, fear of failure or weakness,

Mediocrity or fear of...

by Kevin T. McEneaney in Poetry
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A little water now on your forehead

to remember we are all mostly water,

that we go with the flow like water,

that we are weak in the face of...

by Kevin T. McEneaney in Poetry
Mon Jun 19th, 2017

When life is raindrops on slate steps

Petals falling from sunflowers

Dawn rising east with rosy hue

Urge to make love half awake

Bathrobe close to skin

Baby rollicking rattling...

by Kevin T. McEneaney in Poetry
Mon Jun 12th, 2017

Spring: aconite and daffodil

Have vanished yet flocks of flowers—

lilacs, rainbows of tulips, purple iris

surround a path to the driveway.

 

Everything appears reborn in vivid color

while...

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