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  • Sean Phillips

Four Poems

More than the night sky

Misses the stars,

And the wind misses

Leaves to blow through.

More than the beach

Misses the retreating wave,

And cobblestone streets,

The clacking of horseshoes.


Often I don't know what year it is

Often I'm surprised by the color of my eyes

I've sought afflatus in the fay of a candle flame

You said you prefer a light that's alive

Nearly ever am I sure of anything

Adamantine essentia reaps the ache of fortune's prod

To set free our kite letting numen pull the line


To let a loved one suffer is the burden of God

Mirrors when self-facing bear fruit as the new earth

The squint of the jesters here playing for fun

To walk with another as blithe spirit living

To stay the infinite quietude of things left undone


Soon I'll close my eyes

And fall into sleep

With heavy snow falls

And the candle stays lit-

The floorboards creak with footsteps,

Warm air drifts from the vents.

I hear the airstream blow

Of a passing plane far away,

But to planes looking down

My room isn't seen-

Nor the dark house or the town,

Just a few lights through the trees.

Fall snow, fall, and bury this room,

Wrap me in your muting cocoon

Of serene white.

Who's looking out the window

At five thousand feet

And seeing way down

A few lights through the trees,

And I no longer know

Which is dream nor where I am

I feel the gentle buzz

Of the life in my hands,

And the snow keeps burying me in.


Fingertips beat a crooning

Melody upon ivory keys,

As wandering fingers paint symbols

On laid open palms.


Sean Phillips was a medical student and neurobiologist at UW-Madison who dropped out of school after experiencing a profound shift in consciousness and moved to NYC. He self-published his first book of poetry, Eye of Reason in 2022 and continues writing as well as running Rounding Edges - an educational platform for cultivating inner peace through free virtual guided meditations, discussions, and Q&A. Website:

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