The March

The March

How meekly march the millions
To the statist’s steady drum;
How passively they plod along,
All singing the same song:
Left, right, left, right,
To glory days ahead;
Left, right, left, right,
We’ll go where we are led.

How malleable are the masses
Melted in the master mold,
All tribal tied, wings kept clipped,
From cradle to the crypt:
Left, right, left, right,
We won’t stray out of line;
Left, right, left, right,
Together we’ll be fine.

How blind they go with blinders,
Seeing only what they’re shown;
How deaf they go to strident clones
With scripts and megaphones:
Left, right, left, right,
Divided we would fall;
Left, right, left, right,
Each one is one for all.

How silenced the dissenters
Shuffling towards the killing wall;
The gutters thick with viscous red
Are always needing fed:
Left, right, left, right,
Long trenches being filled;
Left, right, left, right,
Come spring we’ll all be tilled.

How deadly aim the rifles
From the towers high above;
The gates are locked, the keys are thrown,
But how could they have known?
Left, right, left, right,
Around the yard we turn;
Left, right, left, right,
When will we ever learn?

~ Quent Cordair
2025

The Black-Holed Soul

The fawning of a million stars
Won’t sate the black-holed soul;
The unfilled need for self-esteem
Devours its diamonds whole.

The brightest suns are fed feet first,
Into the maw they go,
While vacuum’s vice slow-squeezes life
From those prostrating low.

The fearful ones come proffering praise,
So desperate for reprieve,
Some dragging offerings to the mouth,
While swearing they believe.

But in they go by ones or tens,
Sucked in without a kiss,
Around the tongue and swallowed down,
Into the void’s abyss.

~ Quent Cordair
3/2/2025

Out of the Blue

Out of the blue and into the red;
Bureaus are razed for czardoms instead;
Infidels flung on the flag-draped pyre;
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Yesterday’s profiteers lined on the wall;
Blindfold executives jeered as they fall;
Cronies and troubadours flock to the court;
Poets and publishers shift to comport.

Tariffs for all who won’t dance for the clown;
Papers are checked by the new tribe in town;
A republic unkept, one best kiss the ring;
The president’s dead, long live the king.


~ Quent Cordair

Silenced

From the river to the sea, they cried,
This land it must be free.
From the river to the sea, they screamed,
What we demand must be.

The Jordan’s banks will overflow
With crimson current high,
Awash with dead unto the Dead,
Till Galilee runs dry.

From the river to the sea, they cried,
We righteously require
That those within who dare to stand
Against us must expire.

For others bound to other books
Can tolerate no choice;
They must be free to kick and kill,
To throttle every voice.

And so it was, it came to pass,
From the river to the sea,
Once champions of the gunning thugs
Were marched and put to knee—

Lined on the shore, the silenced cried,
Bowed down, awaiting shot—
The river fed, the sea turned red,
The floating left to rot.

~ Quent Cordair

“Silenced,” Copyright 2024, Quent Cordair. All rights reserved.

The Village Dogs

FeaturedThe Village Dogs

Let the dead bury the dead,
Let the wounded heal behind,
Let the cowards run from courage,
Let the deaf lead on the blind.

Leave the schemers to their scheming,
Leave the plotters to their plots,
Leave the sheep to follow shepherds,
Leave the spiders spinning knots.

Leave the gullible to liars,
Let the liars fear the truth,
Leave the power-hungry preying
On each other, claw and tooth.

Leave the tribal drummers drumming,
Cannibals to eat themselves,
Leave conspiracists conspiring
With the cans on empty shelves.

Leave the fantasies to mystics,
Let the preachers point with scorn,
Leave the critics to their picking
While the clowns keep shucking corn.

Leave subjectivists judgmental,
Leave intrinsicists their airs,
Leave the dreamers to their dreaming,
But invite the one who dares.

Fix your eyes on the horizon,
Take your bearing, plot your course,
Set the village dogs to barking,
Load your gun, spur your horse.

~ Quent Cordair
Copyright 2023

Afghanistan

FeaturedAfghanistan

Again comes the cry, again comes the mourn,
Clutched fingers in hair over flowers forlorn;
Candles all lit till the night wetly glows,
Coffins wrapped neatly in black satin bows.

Shadows beg mercy where mercy’s unknown,
Prayers and peace offerings all fruitlessly sown,
The desperate prostrations all fail to suffice
For those taking no less than blood sacrifice.

There’s left but one answer to those who love death,
Whose sword demands kneeling until the last breath,
Those blinded to reason, faith shrouding their eyes
Till torn from their skulls as their creed’s final prize.

There’s left but one choice, for those who love life,
In answer to those sworn to murder and strife:
When faith-deafened minds every argument shun,
When no word can turn what no logic has won,
When pleas have been met every time with a gun—
Swift granting of death is the deed sooner done.

~ Quent Cordair

image: The Monteverde Angel, Giulio Monteverde

Out of the Old

Out of the Old

This poem was penned seven years ago, with someone wheelchair-bound in mind, as she faces the approach of another year, a new year. With so many having been housebound and restricted this past year, with so many still being so, may “Out of the Old” lift and inspire. From the My Kingdom collection, 2019. ~

Out of the Old

Yet another year, she thought,
Sitting in her chair, she thought.
Still she might, she thought,
Still she would, she thought,
Till she did, she thought —
Her soul, willed and willing,
Rose and waltzed more lightly even
Than her body ever had,
Out of the old, into the new.

~ Quent Cordair

My Kingdom, my latest collection of poetry, short fiction, and short plays for stage and screen, is now available in paperback  and Kindle editions. ~

I could not put the book down! I read the poems out loud to my kids as though I am Cyrano on stage! Inspires me to be the best I can be! Love it! ~ Heather Pendaris

If you enjoy life and a positive view of mankind, if you are a valuer and enjoy reading uplifting works, you’ll love this collection of short works by Quent Cordair. This is a great book when you just want a short read that will leave you feeling better than when you started, when you need a little emotional fuel. No need to read it as a whole, just enjoy a little morsel when you need it. You will find yourself going back for more, over and over. I have thoroughly enjoyed Quent’s longer works, but they are a deeper dive. This collection can be enjoyed even if you have only short spurts of time available for reading. I highly recommend it. ~ Steve M.

I can only say, if like me you admire human independence and have a belief that each of us are sovereign individuals and that the greatest joy can be found in seeing something admirable, reward yourself with a few hours of pleasure. Buy the real book .. read … enjoy. ~ Garrett Seinen

ScreenShot_20200617184223

If you prefer novels, I write those too. I recommend starting with Genesis, the first part of my five-part Idolatry saga. ~

Genesis

Part I of Idolatry

In the twilight of the Roman Empire, a sculptor struggles to keep an 800-year dream alive while honoring the love of his life and raising his adopted son. Part I of the epic five-part Idolatry saga, the story of a wealthy young heir and a devout Christian girl who find themselves at the heart of a 2400-year struggle for the soul of Western Civilization.

ScreenShot_20200617193321

“Beautifully written, on the order of Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth, with the historical insight of James Michener, it brings to life a time of great thought, great art, and its clash with religious fanaticism. Cordair writes with a poet’s sense of scene and nuance and gives us a great deal of insight into the mind of a sculptor; I found this an exciting and easy read.” ~ Alan Nitikman

Enjoy Genesis in paperbackKindle, or Audiobook today. ~

*****

Quent Cordair Fine Artwith galleries in Napa, California, and Jackson, Wyoming, was established by artist Quent Cordair in 1996. As a premier provider of contemporary Romantic Realism in painting, sculpture, and drawing, QCFA has grown to serve an international clientele of private and corporate collectors. Explore our select offerings today at cordair.com. ~


In Earthly Peace

FeaturedIn Earthly Peace

“In Earthly Peace” is my blessing of, and reverence for, a silent night, a holy night, a sacred night ~ an earthly night. The lyrics are mine. The warm and lovely voice is Tori Anna’s. I hope you enjoy the song. Please feel free to share. I’ve included the lyrics the below. Merry Christmas, all. ~

*****

In Earthly Peace

Silent night, holy night,
Lovers lie in starlight bright,
Lips cross lips for untold things,
Limbs cross limbs for forming wings,
Rise in flight through snowfall,
Rise in flight above all.

Silent night, holy night,
Souls betwine in sacred rite,
Mind turns mind in woven dance,
Heart turns heart in spun romance,
Bodies yearn to be one,
Bodies burn to be one.

Silent night, holy night,
Break away to renew sight,
Circle out to circle in,
Parting touch to touch again,
Tears anoint veils of white,
World in waiting veiled white.

Silent night, holy night,
Love’s firstborn will see first light,
Swaddled gift on giving breast,
Cradled close in castle’s nest,
Sleep in earthly peace,
Sleep in earthly peace.

~ Quent Cordair
Copyright 2020. All rights reserved.

*****
Enjoy more of my poetry & short fiction in my latest collection, My Kingdom, now available in paperback and Kindle editions. ~

I could not put the book down! I read the poems out loud to my kids as though I am Cyrano on stage! Inspires me to be the best I can be! Love it! ~ Heather Pendaris

If you enjoy life and a positive view of mankind, if you are a valuer and enjoy reading uplifting works, you’ll love this collection of short works by Quent Cordair. This is a great book when you just want a short read that will leave you feeling better than when you started, when you need a little emotional fuel. No need to read it as a whole, just enjoy a little morsel when you need it. You will find yourself going back for more, over and over. I have thoroughly enjoyed Quent’s longer works, but they are a deeper dive. This collection can be enjoyed even if you have only short spurts of time available for reading. I highly recommend it. ~ Steve M.

I can only say, if like me you admire human independence and have a belief that each of us are sovereign individuals and that the greatest joy can be found in seeing something admirable, reward yourself with a few hours of pleasure. Buy the real book .. read … enjoy. ~ Garrett Seinen

The My Kingdom collection is now available in paperback and Kindle editions. ~

ScreenShot_20200617184223

*****

If you prefer novels, I write those too. I recommend starting with Genesis, the first part of my five-part Idolatry saga. ~

Genesis

Part I of Idolatry

In the twilight of the Roman Empire, a sculptor struggles to keep an 800-year dream alive while honoring the love of his life and raising his adopted son. Part I of the epic five-part Idolatry saga, the story of a wealthy young heir and a devout Christian girl who find themselves at the heart of a 2400-year struggle for the soul of Western Civilization.

ScreenShot_20200617193321

“Beautifully written, on the order of Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth, with the historical insight of James Michener, it brings to life a time of great thought, great art, and its clash with religious fanaticism. Cordair writes with a poet’s sense of scene and nuance and gives us a great deal of insight into the mind of a sculptor; I found this an exciting and easy read.” ~ Alan Nitikman

Enjoy Genesis in paperbackKindle, or Audiobook today. ~

*****

Quent Cordair Fine Artwith galleries in Napa, California, and Jackson, Wyoming, was established by artist Quent Cordair in 1996. As a premier provider of contemporary Romantic Realism in painting, sculpture, and drawing, QCFA has grown to serve an international clientele of private and corporate collectors. Explore our select offerings today at cordair.com. ~

Nice

Nice

Nice
#Nice #nicefrance

Again comes the cry, again comes the mourn,
Clutched fingers in hair over flowers forlorn;
Candles all lit till the night wetly glows,
Coffins wrapped neatly in black satin bows.

Shadows beg mercy where mercy’s unknown,
Prayers and peace offerings, fruitlessly sown,
The desperately hoping more love will suffice
For those taking no less than blood sacrifice.

There’s left but one answer to those who love death,
Whose sword demands kneeling until the last breath,
Those blinded to reason, faith shrouding their eyes
Till blackened beaks probe, their creed’s final prize.

There’s left but one choice, for those who love life,
In answer to those sworn to murder and strife:
When faith-deafened minds every argument shun,
When no word can turn what no logic has won,
When pleas cannot stay the raised knife or drawn gun,
Swift granting of death is the deed sooner done.

~ Quent Cordair