By Thomas Page The Untranslatable This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. What is mercy without payment or due Like a gem hidden in the walls of a mine Making no impact on … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Firgun
The Untranslatable: Gezelligheid
By Thomas Page The Untranslatable This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. At my high school, the seniors would on the last day sign each other’s shirts. The last period in the orange, … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Gezelligheid
The Untranslatable: Hiraeth
By Thomas Page The Untranslatable This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. The fading dye of photographs hung on living room walls Holding idealized pasts of what was When everything was not a worry … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Hiraeth
The Untranslatable: Hyggelig
By Thomas Page The Untranslatable This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. Toasts made in candlelit rooms, Surrounding by autumn’s bounty saved for winter, Accompanied by drinks of all sorts that mean … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Hyggelig
“The Faces of the Seasons”
By Thomas Page If I were to spin a season from silk, Making human’d face out of spitting Image, who would we behold right there? Spring would probably be a young woman With flowers and orchids blooming from her Hair. She, like the softly-born breeze, would float ‘bove The groves and glens hued with forest … Continue reading “The Faces of the Seasons”
“Regard”
By Thomas Page Rivers meet and separate without care To humanity’s wishes. They flow and ebb According to the cycles set before the rivers Began to speak with a soft rage cutting Rocks from earth , easing the seasons into The practices of these breathing an element Forming its very essence of water. From this … Continue reading “Regard”
“Still Life”
By Thomas Page Right before me there is a vase made of Glass imbued with unpotable water Criss-crossed with stems of varying widths which Are floating in a pseudo-creche, a yurt Acting as a spyglass to the other side. The flowers are every shade save blue Which blushes purple from red painted Flowers flanking the … Continue reading “Still Life”
“A Quiz”
By Thomas Page The closest thing to silence echoes through the room. The lesson plans of other teachers bleed in through the walls Like a gushing wound by a riverbed To set the stage of unease. The occasional flip of paper Or the clawing of an eraser Work in syncopation led by no conductor. Does … Continue reading “A Quiz”
“We Were Seven”
By Thomas Page I was on a tour of Skyline Caverns In Virginia with my family when The tour-guide showed us a standing body Of water. She pointed at it and said, “This may look like a boring part of the Cave, but there are many discoveries Found here. For example, a species of Snail … Continue reading “We Were Seven”
Haiku 290-299
By Thomas Page 290 Ebullient feelings, Like flambéd meringue, rest upon The base beneath it 291 Leaves hued with yellow Falling gently on parents Playing with their child 292 The cogs work beneath The face of a clock ticking Away on a wall 293 The bird feeder, prey Of those who fear … Continue reading Haiku 290-299
