Winter Meditations

Two short poems


Paradise Reimagined: A conversation with Milton

By Jared St. Martin Brown “Till one greater man restore us and regain the blissful seat” (Paradise Lost, I, 4-5) I Hail Holy Fire*, Whose footprints indelibly brand The naked hide of the occupied wilderness Ethereal power into flesh like lead, Ex Nihilo, Light spoken into the womb of chaos Into purity stricken came purity... Continue Reading →

Poems from Glen Elk (volume 2)

I consider these nonfiction.  Most of this happened over a decade ago, but these are the Glen Elk stories I recall and retell most often.  If I haven't forgotten them by now, that means they are an active part of my life still, informing my walk.  This volume is the miracles and legends section of... Continue Reading →

Poems from Glen Elk (volume 1)

for Russell Glen Elk is like it's people.  Embattled but beautiful.  It's the best part of town, and everyone knows it.  Frozen for a time, in neglect, it escaped the fires improvement that leveled to blandness everything else in the late 1900s.  Now it's buildings and streets have that charm that everyone's looking for.  That's... Continue Reading →

Heart Song

My two sons Each born With a hole in his heart   See the look On the doctor's face As she listens   To an upbeat With a down beat An unusual rhythm   And lungs breath lyrics "Here is a heart With room for God."   Her stethoscope, Headphones, witness To truest worship -JSMB... Continue Reading →

Medea in Firelight

Medea, the mother, In firelight Altar of witchcraft Hot and white   Eyes of the Chorus Wild in Rage Censure burns The pungent sage   Spirits venomous Woolly gold Weaving the bitter Song of old   Medea, the mother ‘Till a moment ago, Barefoot in blood And wailing woe   -JSMB 2017


Congratulations, You exist And I don’t care How much you resist, I don’t care How much you doubt it, How much you deny Or lie about it, How you close your eyes And tighten your fists, It makes no difference You still exist Parallels infinite Broken sims Impossible dreams And forgotten whims Ebbing and flowing... Continue Reading →

Plague of Fireflies

  Seventeen-Year Cicadas You’ve heard them sing their song, Sonic waves unstoppable All spring and summer long But another swarm is coming- Oh what can ready your eyes? For every thousand years Is a Plague of Fireflies Some will think them falling stars Some will think them wild fires Some will think they’re dreaming When... Continue Reading →

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