Poetry Blog by Mae Foreman


I make this wish for you, starchild, oh daughter of Tempest and Thunder!

May your cradle faintly rock-a-bye even in the wildest, most vicious winds!

May the waters;  oceans, rivers and seas, before you, split asunder.

May the heavens shine on you, may you grow a set of wings

and may you spread them and surely take to the skies and soar!

May every soft snow flake clad your dainty toe...

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Secret Truth

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Lightly the young girl dances

around a bonfire; proud of her prized wisdom

While the old man humbly weeps

over all the things unknown; ever, now and hence.


Surely the innocent fawn prances

haughty and ignorant of the looming doom

as the hollow-eyed, huntsman peeps

through the dense foliage of iron-wrought prudence.

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Love Song

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Lonesome lovers loom laments; longing lost love; lo lust!

Odes of ordinary ordeals; of orchid opalescent oases,

Velveteen verses voicing veiled voids; veritably vast...

Eternally embroidering elated, entrancing embraces!


Sirens serenade sweet songs; sinner succumbs.

Obedient, omicompetent Odysseus overcomes.

Nostalgic noblemen never needed nymphs’ nests.

"Graciously go gr...

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Hold on with the claws of your heart

The fight has yet to be fought 

The war has yet to start

Nobody asked us if we'd like to enlist!

But the knaves still seek to be bought

Resist! Resist!


Paint with the colors of your eyes

A battle-field of charcoal and aquamarine 

Search for mine within the crowds of your allies

Remember! It's on the prices of the stakes that you ...

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Keep it Close

This is for all the days

that you wake up feeling lesser.

This is for all the ways

that the order of the world has forced you to say "Yes, sir."

and feign a smile and take a bow.

For every time you have to clench your teeth

swallow your pride, crease your brow

this is the only thing I can leave you with.

For all the dull afternoons

and for all the lonesome nights.


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If there is ever held a trial in a court of justice 

To punish the one who stabbed humanity in the eye,

don't go looking for any monster of extraordinary malice. 

Look my way, for the hideous wrongdoer is I.


Rip the clothes off my back and kick me down

Spit in my eye and then hand me the flog,

Because I alone deserve to wear the crown

of the cowardly, hypocritical, whimpe...

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GR (In the South)

GR (In the South)

(revised version)


In the realm of vineyards and olive trees 

In the citadel of hot humid nights

We wasted away dancing in the breeze 

Counting pointlessly the stellar lights.


The foliage urged us in clandestine meetings 

we leaned back and let go of our innocence.

Between childish scribblings and philosophic readings,

entranced by the fragrant...

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