Category: Poetry
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Bunker Hill
They are playing “British Grenadiers” as the Grenadiers advance, cheering them on, to their doom, for there are no other songs to play. Read more
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Dreamer of the Day
Listen, Dreamer of the Day: The desert calls you, like a prayer; Her sands, the tide of destiny, washing everything clean but the hearts of men. Read more
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God Save the King!
I say, God save the King, for the present must not scorn the past, but work through her wisdom. I say, God save the King, for we are not nourished by bread alone, but by symbols and signs. Read more
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Nothing Human
Nothing human is a stranger to God on the tree in agony. He is in one place, and in all, the Calvary of Mankind. He is not safe from our iniquity, nor is He absent from our misery. Read more
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Our Lady of Britannia
Thou stood on Newgate Arch and graced Pendragon’s shield; Cardigan bore thy taper and Walsingham thy seal. Humbly we now beseech thee as at thy feet we kneel: Our Lady of Britannia, ora pro nobis! Read more
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Ferguson’s Grave
Ferguson, lying beneath cold stones, gray with lichen clinging, do you yearn for the sounds of home? Can you hear me singing? Read more
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Shattered Mirror
Thus a broken boy with glassy gaze was spirited away to serve the fates of reason, with measurements just-so, a fairyland enchantment, robbed of soul. Read more
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Saint Hubert’s Hunt
Hail, Cross between the antlers beaming, brighter than the brightest pain! Hunted as the wild stag, white as host-to-tongue, we long to savor Thee! Read more
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Arbaeen
Everything is shimmering in the shrines of the slain, starlit crystal capturing song and the moan of the mourners, fermented, yet fresh, like the River of Wine that flows beside the Milk. Read more
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Italia
Empire of the Heart and Land of the Eternal, you shake me to the core with your fire-fused mountains and crumbling foundations, fierce as your passion for living untamed. Read more
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Hidden Queen
Look into the poorest eyes, and find the hidden queen. This pool of liquid light reveals the depth of the Red Sea, and she will lead us through the waves, the first upon dry ground. Read more
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Hussain at Karbala
I wander the sands, smeared crimson o’er gold; the blood of my house runs red as dusk. The children are crying, their throats parched earth. Read more
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Nativity
Lady, Lady, marvel deep on what has come through thee! Lady, Lady, we will weep for what must pierce through thee! But we cannot turn back… Read more
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I Am
I Am—The Passion of a Lover, the Paradox of Nature, the Frozen Corpse of Winter, the Living Source of Spring. Read more
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The Flame of Autumn
Agony comes with ecstasy even for the saints, among whom I hold no place. Brilliance is blinding and burning when it pierces our blackness. But I would take it, nonetheless. Read more