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Articles
Images in the Time of Shadows: A Poem
Images in the Time of Shadows
A dove sits in the tree of life
in the genesis of mist -
a tracery for the vale of tears –
this for that and that for this.
That for this...
Articles
Eva Forgives the Angel of Death
Here is a poem by Lorraine Labriola, on forgiveness, which we post in light of the Jewish commemoration of Yom Kippur - the Day of Atonement - and as you read, you will see...
Articles
In Light of Day: A Comparative Glance at Saul Alinsky and Dorothy Day
Appeals for freedom, justice and mercy are commonplace. All seems right. We impulsively acknowledge and defend them undisputedly. But, in the spirit of modern revisionism these core principles have been stealthily expropriated and deceptively...
Reviews
Why Is This Night Different? – A Poem
The table set for everyday-
my father, leaning in;
two or three gathered.
His usual shyness at supper- the rub
of indignity against composure;
his cane, his chair.
His voice barely brushed the air-
like a soft thing - glancing
the cold...
Featured
Tagging the Palace Walls
I was in Desmond’s Hip City.
Delroy Wilson’s musty Dancing Mood
posters strewn underfoot. Party for the End of the World
slapped on the hoarding, made from cut and paste hysteria.
Hunger strikes and tribal clashes, clashes luridly...
Articles
The Backstory of the Daily News: Notes on Science, Politics and Gnosticism by Eric Voegelin
(Eric Voeglin (1901-1985) was a German political philosopher, who narrowly escaped the Gestapo, and spent most of his life in America. He wrote voluminously, with a particular focus on the history of ideas, order,...
Articles
Sunday Poem: A Riddle
The Professor loved to laugh.
Social propriety piqued him.
Practiced in the Grand Art of Comedy,
he was an untiring scoffer; an assailant on the dismal.
He knew the Acacacademy feared scandal
and that they took him for a...
Articles
The Eternal Flame: A Poem
Persona Christi, in his threefold office,
Faces the House where the Pillar of Smoke
Made camp, his head by the nails in His feet,
His breath, pulled out of him
By Magisterial force, halts
In petrified ecstasy.
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We hear the...
