Sentinel Poetry (Online) #53 ISSN 1479-425X


Editor-in-Chief: Amatoritsero Ede

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Graham Hardie


Den of Wolves



In the shadow of the den of wolves

Lies Aphrodite’s kingdom; here the men

Fornicate with nymphs loosening the seams

Of moonlight into the peripheral visions

Of madness and while the flesh is white

And washed, Eve’s apple lies abandoned

                                      In the burning bush. 




Solomon’s Gaze


I speak of the winds of  Delphi

Sweeping through the caustic wood of Hades.


I speak of the snow of Helena

Sweeping through the vines of Troy.


I speak of the fire of Agamemnon

Sweeping through the circles of Titan.


I speak of the sun of Spartacus

Sweeping through the winter of Solomon’s gaze


And I speak of the ibis of Sheba

Sweeping through the wilderness of Jonah and Isaiah.







Morag the waves have risen

And you release me from a prison

Where I was once captured by your

Loving and joyful heart; and now

I rest my vision, placing her in the cup

Of your palm

For with you there is no harm

Just love life beauty and charm.



Bride of Achilles


He is the whore’s oracle; he speaks for her in the night

And he speaks for her in the day; she is the bride of Achilles

Bringing with her the red roses of Magdalene

And placing them by his side as he sleeps

In the beloved and seminal sheets of Christ.





I eat from the tree of Medusa

As the dogs of Hathor begin to chase

The lurid dreams of Persia

Where the armies of the west

Breathe destruction on the ancestry

                                                Of Babylonia





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