Skip to content
Avatar photo

Micah Paul Veillon is a writer from Rome, Georgia. He is a recent graduate from Georgia Tech where he studied history, sociology, and philosophy. He is a poet in residence at VoegelinView and his writing has been published in The American Conservative, The European Conservative, and Moonshine & Magnolias, among other publications.

Heaven

Some people are one thing. Some are like faces which only show eyes or nose or lips. But not you. You are like a moment in my…

Read more

Freeze

The face of the pond sits still in ice. Ripples caught in movement furrow one after another; held breath; time in grip. The windshields all are slick…

Read more

Civic Duties

Perched cardinals dress the cold woods like roses. A stag lays lifeless by the oak grove. His heart rests in my bloodstained hands. He will feed my…

Read more

On Autumn

Time once more has risen up to roam, And death spreads out, reposing on the trees Whose outstretched, embracing arms the leaves comb Through, to dance past…

Read more

To Die at Appomattox

On the removal of the Confederate Memorial at Arlington National Cemetery   The compromise has been forsaken. She was lifted from the pedestal As an airbus smeared…

Read more

Wild Geese Calling

In the rhythm of the current, cool against my feet descending into deeper pools, the calls of wild geese snatch up my attention. My vision is arrested…

Read more

Grand Cayman Storm

A barge looms ghostly on the gray horizon and, like a vision, fades into the storm silently; heavily and patiently into the fast approaching rain. If it…

Read more

Back Home

In the sweat of an election year, in the fever of political trials and war and guess after mediocre guess, I pull into the yard and Daddy’s…

Read more

A Prayer

There are four white oak trees on the new land. Each has stood for at least two hundred years. Each has watched wheatgrass grow, and horses graze,…

Read more

Nature

Watch the sparrow glide more fair than a dream And dip in wind, bouncing like a drum’s thud. He holds his breath; falls where flowers bud Then…

Read more

Isaiah

You softly glide through what are surely clouds, Returning with a pink and blushing cheek After having just glimpsed angelic crowds Who laugh, and cannot help it,…

Read more

The Ineffable

My mouth is dry, drawn, and hot, Strained from attempts to utter Words that man cannot — Though my bosom feels a flutter; For I have seen…

Read more

Temptation

She is coiled ‘round my being’s roots, Her venom seeps into my veins. Farewell to my imagination’s reigns; I sold all to eat this poisoned fruit. She…

Read more
Back To Top