onward into the day


“Love is the root of everything….Love, or the lack of it.”

— Fred Rogers 


like glass resonant in trembled anger

the fear is outrageous and constant

one horrific event erases the next

in an infinite succession of bomb blasts

bludgeoning attention to a bloody slurry

only the noise of the moment matters

and it does not matter even then

but only in the silence it creates in you

the silence of the possibility of dissent

so one must learn to hear without

hearing deafly to see again without

seeing blindly to go with open trust

across the shattered shards of glass

onward into the darkening night


(June 23, 2018)




I must tear the lids

from my eyes to burn

past the ritual shrouds,

if I am to walk

into the air and breathe

enough to speak clear.

What I see filters

through a thousand

thousand veils,

thin and translucent

like water swiftly slides

over a spring rock,

glossing the granite

in a thin sheen

which belies its course nature.

If I stop writing

and close my eyes,

then I submit

to the thousand voices

which slip unimpeded

through the dark

like photons streaming

from a sun

I cannot see.


(February 17, 2018)


Assorted Location Shoots


From the opening, one can see

Flickers of light and dark

Dancing another world,


If one places one’s eye

At a precise angle askew

To the present lived world.


This Vision’s dream pulses

Like an omphalos stream’s

Constant thrum of blood

Caresses a nascent life.


My eye’s curve opens,

As the horizon catches

The dawn, to a distant

Transcendence in your eye.


(January 19, 2018)

Love Tropes

“the wounds produced by stereotyped sight”
–Wayne Koestenbaum, Forward to “A Lover’s Discourse”

he could only see
what his words
the wounds
filled with salt
of their own making
he reacted accordingly
through a bank
of emotions
a cacophonous disquiet
in presumption
her words were
hers, askew
to his vision
she suffered not
the barbs in his
to his exhortations
she wandered away
singing songs
in his blood

(May 24, 2017)