Tag: Martin A. Ramos

Poem for Anne, Who Made a Sacrifice by Martin A. Ramos

Jesus, the God-man, the Savior, Hanging there. His legs are Twisted trees, His feet are locks Whose keys have been Irrepably lost. Though meek, how His arms must ache To hold me. The torso white, gleaming, Scourged like the scars on Pilate’s Silvery moon….

The Moors by Martin A. Ramos

1 Victrola records scratched and scarred, the letters of van Gogh unread, and poems to be painted, corrected and filed after the words form, gently bidden. 2 I write a calculus for the intellect and find a dust bin for desire. The writing is…

Twisters in Sequence by Martin A. Ramos

In April two lovers sit on a park bench. Pigeons pivot overhead. Kernels of corn at the lovers’ feet. Not just pigeons does their love feed. During the summer months, their love is like the red of roses: vibrant, brilliant. If only roses didn’t…