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My Poetry and Commentary on Life

  • This Writer’s Beginnings: EarlyYears
  • Bread Loaf Influence
  • Rock and Roll High School
  • About

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  • over

    by

    dissatisfaction, frustration, lists, poetry, tired, worn
    too many prescriptions
    too many commands
    disguised as descriptions
    too many lacerations
    flayed into my skin
    too many unvoiced cries
    too many nights arguing
    violently in my sleep
    too many days bludgeoned
    in pursuit of fragile dreams
    too many shards of glass
    too many bloody hands
    held out in supplication
    too many crucifixions
    nailed across these hills
    (November 2, 2016)

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  • eminent

    by

    aging, fate, fear, middle-age, poetry
    rabbit watches with unease
    as each swing of the scythe
    slices the grass with a swoop
    one step closer then again
    and the world trembles
    and collapses to skin
    and he can barely breathe
    and there is nowhere to run

    (November 1, 2016)

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  • Fallen

    by

    alone, despair, loss, poetry, response, sadness
    “I would always rather be happy than dignified.”
                                        –Charlotte Bronte
    He waits patiently in the parlor
    like a forgotten Sunday suitor
    as the yellow afternoon drapes
    the room in dusty silence.
    There is no dignity in sadness,
    just sadness, a complacent yawn
    alone.  He peers from the window;
    as the day’s shadows grow deep.
    Violently trimmed to partially fit,
    he forces his wings into a box,
    so they no longer can do harm,
    then walks across the room
    to sweep feathers from the floor.

    (October 31, 2016)           

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  • in stasis entire

    by

    abstract, fate, lost, poetry, sonnets
    Before opened to air,
    my arteries pulse slowly
    beneath my skin. Moments
    open and close within
    a moment, like doors despite
    a shoulder against the jamb.
    What was seen, as grace
    of tense, folds back upon
    itself, like sedimentary
    rock grinding all myths
    into a gruel. Divorced
    from when and then,
    tapping time on walls
    I hide in where I am.

    (October 27, 2016)

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  • World Wary

    by

    alone, death, existential angst, fear, poetry, sonnets, worry
    rabbit nibbles and nibbles
    one eye on the path
    one eye on the briar
    always on the verge
    of run run run
    always on the verge
    of leap and lunge
    into the wind
    then turn and cower
    still in the grass
    nose and ears aquiver
    rabbit nibbles and nibbles
    something looms nearby
    something always nearby

    (October 27, 2016)

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  • Small Talk

    by

    communication, conversation, erato, interrelationships, love, poetry, sonnets
    Within a polite exchange
    in a hall, “It’s good
    to see you,” she said.
    “Always,” he replied,
    meaning more
    than could be said
    in the moment
    which he had.
    He worries the delight
    he takes will fall,
    ashamed and forsaken.
    at her feet, and all
    he cannot say
    will stay unsaid.
    (October 26, 2016)

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  • crossing

    by

    abstract, assignment, breach, liminal, poetry, ritual
    Language is how ghosts enter the world.
    –Anne Michaels, from What the Light Teaches
    the world’s collected
    nothing’s left but to wait
    on the dark to grow
    deeper into the dark
    until light which seems
    so far away and small
    as to never return returns
    slowly drawn along an edge
    as a knife opening a throat
    to sing blood into the wind

    (October 25, 2016)

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  • offering

    by

    erato, eros, love, muse, poetry, prose poem, tanka
    He held out his hand
    as a offering of love
    into empty air.
    What does one do to vanish
    like dusk into the dark?

    (October 22, 2016)

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  • Words

    by

    abstract, communication, definition, interrelationships, language, poetry, sonnets
    I place much trust in words
    to create the world whole
    to believe stones solid
    to build an aqueduct
    to flow healing waters
    to the heart of us all
    there’s little beyond touch
    to hold us together
    than the words we whisper
    to each other at night
    to salvage our troubles
    to find a salvation
    somewhere in the darkness
    between the words we say

    (October 19, 2016)

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  • Three Haiku with Cliché Themes

    by

    abstract, assignment, poetry
    As if he had walked
    into a solid brick wall,
    she was always there.
    *
    “All will go to hell,”
    an old man screams on the street.
    She tends to the poor
    *
    Synder wrote a poem
    echoing Ezra Pound’s phrase
    copied from Li Po.

    (October 17, 2016)

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  • stage directions for a deleted scene

    by

    alone, broken, erasure, existential angst, poetry, tension

    (left alone. off-center.
    pacing to and fro.
    the audience sits mute—
    as if they are not there.
    he speaks his parts
    in whispers and shouts.
    he suspects, gradually,
    no one has heard)
    Explanations aren’t enough.
    (he explains beneath his breath)
    What was that sound? (he barks.
    a murder in the wings.
    near the stage edge,
    yet not at the edge,
    he peers into the dark,
    a sailor lost at sea).

    (October 17, 2016)

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  • Melodrama Distracts

    by

    despair, erato, eros, frustration, lament, loss, melodrama, metaphor, poetics, poetry, romance
    Thorns prick his arms
    as he lifts her from his roses;
    blood droplets fall to pale skin.
    Fires leap from a pyre,
    like tongues crying to heaven.
    Flesh burns, and burns, and burns.
    Winds swirl her ash, a final
    embrace, before he falls
    exhausted to the ground.
    Why so many masks
    to disguise the end
    of what was never there?
    Oh, Metaphor!
    Conceal my desires!

    Even from myself.

    (October 16, 2016)

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  • Collapse

    by

    broken, life, poetry, unstable
    everything made sense
    before it fell into shambles
    and I took another drink

    (October 15, 2016)

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  • there is this desire

    by

    breach, charm, desire, erato, eros, love, lust, poetry

    I want a word
    as a breach
    through this wall
    a speech act
    to conjure
    out of sound
    a vision I can lay
    upon the horror
    in your silence
    I want a word
    not a small conversation
    some mannered wall
    a speech act
    to open my mouth
    towards yours
    a vision tonight
    to bring succor
    as if I lay in your arms

    (October 15, 2016)

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  • Attend to the Day

    by

    acceptance, attention, happiness, poetry, tired
    Red clouds spackle the sky,
    as I drive to work.
    I’m tired, but then
    I’m always tired.

    (October 15, 2016)

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