A Poetry Showcase from Ethan McGuire

photo from unsplash.com (Tom Podmore)

Mother Charity
first published in Foundling House
Charity, great love,
is the love of my mother.
Agape. Selfless.

ἀγάπη
Worlds forever change.
Situations are as tides.
My mother is constant.

ἔρως
Eros, romantic,
is a love of many lusts.
Temporal pleasures. Venus.

στοργή
Storge, natural,
widely diffused, emotive,
finds dependency.

φιλία
Philia, the chosen
love, the least gregarious,
fluctuates with pride.

Eros, storge, philia—
good but not self-sufficient—
seek a foundation.

The politician
persuades us with certain truths.
He is but white noise.

The billionaire provides
sacrifices for the poor,
yet he lacks charity.
He gives for himself.

My mother is charity.
She never wavers or drifts
away from paths clear to her.
All the other kinds of loves
I have found are dim.

Absence of Desire
first published in Better Than Starbucks
Incredibly tired.
Painfully far beyond strained.
Absence of desire.

Fields of intense drought
amidst acres of plenty.
Absence of desire.

Stark, spiderweb limbs,
leafless, sporting icicles.
Absence of desire.

Worn, run, overwrought;
unplowed, never left fallow.
Lifeless until Spring.


Valentine Winter

White-woven water falls
softly, steadily, outside
my window, drifting across
a laid-bare, lonely window pane.

A man and a woman—
sitting at their kitchen table
drinking hot, black coffee,
freshly ground and brewed—
say, “Your way is my way,
and your tears are my tears,”
as they reach across the table
carefully toward each other.

Staring across morning valleys
from hilltop vantage points,
I see a path upon which
a figure roams wandering, one.

Even still, without reprieve,
white-woven water falls
steadily, softly, outside
my window, drifting across
a lonely, laid-bare window pane.

Your way works better.
I can hardly deny it.
Let me leave with you.


Red Christmas Kettles

I turn my collar up against my town,
thrust icy fingers deep into my jeans,
and shrug my jacket tighter ‘round my frame.

I hunch my shoulders then resign myself
to plunge into the changing winter’s fog
and stride the dirty streets, averting eyes.

I turn my troubled thoughts against my town,
until Salvation Army Santas stand
to ring their bells and shiver through their smiles.

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Ethan McGuire

3 poems by Ethan McGuire inspired by Leonard Cohen for Before I Turn Into Gold Day

New Poem : The King & Queen Of Neon by Ethan McGuire

Salt by Ethan McGuire poetry entry for Avalanches in Poetry 2 Writings & Art Inspired by Leonard Cohen

5 micro-poems by Ethan McGuire “Home” “Good Weather Bad” “The Warm Front” “Burnt World-Heart” & “Thorn & Shout”

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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