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My Poetry and Commentary on Life

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

    by

    control, dissatisfaction, poetry
    a chair’s propped up against the door
    the one window’s bricked shut
    a bare bulb flickers out of reach
    at the room’s center I sit on the floor
    palms up my hands hold only air
    my eyes are closed breath uneven
    I hear feet shuffling uneasily outside
    the door knob begins to turn then stops
    voices murmur indistinctly concerned

    (December 26, 2013)

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  • American Haiku

    by

    early work, poetics, poetry
    Form not in language;
    Forced syntax distorts the word.

    The street hurts my feet.

    (from, “If This is a Comedy, Why Ain’t I Laughing” circa 1993)

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  • breath

    by

    borders, erato, language, life, liminal, metaphor, poetry, traces
    my hold on air
    is tenuous
    with each breath
    a newer
    different self
    smudges forth
    like smoke
    an articulation
    of ice
    as if
    the syllables
    which slip
    from my tongue
    like a kiss
    anticipate
    your desires
    within
    the minute
    projections
    that must be
    accounted
    toward some
    older
    mechanistic
    god

    (December 24, 2013)

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  • A Problem With Pride

    by

    hubris, i ching, life, poetry
    December 24, 1995
    The task complicated,
    the ambition vaulting.
    What compelled me, 
    now humbles me.
    How large an offering

    from such a shallow bowl?

    (from: “My Book of Changes,” 1994-1995)

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  • Excess Light Is Not the Problem

    by

    borders, control, fate, interrelationships, life, meaning, poetry, thinking, ways of knowing
    “Unreason is in the same relation to reason as dazzlement to the brightness of daylight itself.”—Michael Foucault
    Truth’s troubled;
    so it’s best
    avoided
    if you can.
    Now I am not
    saying anything
    like to lie,
    but locks are dangerous:
    logic clicks
    mechanically into place
    without thought
    for surrounding space.
    To lie with truth begets
    a problematic progeny.
    (December 22, 2013)

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  • Pack Up My Things and Go

    by

    acceptance, i ching, life, metaphor, poetry, process, ways of knowing
    December 22, 1995
    Perhaps it is better to go silently
    since no one believes,
    if they bother to listen.  The clamor
    is so loud.  What I have to say
    needs an attention that is lacking.

    Simplicity is hard to understand.

    (from:”My Book of Changes,” 1994-1995)

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  • (Life Remains Unchanged), two poems from 1995

    by

    creativity, fate, fragments, i ching, obsessions, poetics, poetry, traces, writing
      


    Cold Feet
    December 18, 1995
    So I’ve spent months cleaning
    to the foundations, investigating
    each fissure of my well.
    What will it matter
    when I put all this aside
    and follow my old path?
    The Wood Curls Slowly in Arabesques
    December 19, 1995
    Sliding the chisel along the grain,
    the wood takes shape before me
    I watch the shavings curl,
    then fall away.  Here is where
    I am, not with the finished

    bowl upon the shelf.

    (from “My Book of Changes” 1994-1995)

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  • you say nothing always

    by

    communication, poetry, traces, ways of knowing
    your words are natters
    of wind without resonance
    beyond breath’s play
    along imagination’s ear
    what I want you to say
    formed from what you will

    (December 20, 2013)

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  • How the Connections are Made

    by

    communication, community, i ching, identity formation, life, obsessions, poetry, relationships, traces
    December 15, 1995
    The tone of a simple statement, 
    the placement of a simple word,
    like a melodic air
    drifting across a lake:
    we recognize the other in passing 

    by the fire we carry within.

    (from, “My Book of Changes”)

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  • Doo Da Wop

    by

    acceptance, life, poetry, ways of knowing, work
    “Come on get smart, tune up and start
    To whistle while you work”
                         —from “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves”
    Do what you’re told—
    Duh! Or get
    whopped upside the head.

    (December 19, 2013)

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  • Eternal Movement

    by

    anger, borders, dissatisfaction, hope, i ching, life, poetry
    December 14, 1995
    A pattern repeats:
    no more a weakness
    than tides to the moon.
    I fluctuate between
    an angry despair

    and an unqualified hope.

    (from “My Book of Changes” 1994-1995

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  • proposal

    by

    audacity, erato, life, poetry
    I’ll bite the tight
    flesh slightly
    along the back
    of your neck
    until you hum
    the length
    of your body
    like honey bees
    fanning a hive
    desperate
    to cool down

    (December 18, 2013)

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  • how it is said

    by

    communication, language, poetry
    If I could drawl
    a bit slower,
    savor each syllable,
    the complex notes,
    at play
    between consonant
    and licentious
    vowel,
    then the words
    might not
    taste
    so bitter
    on my tongue.

    (December 17, 2013)

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  • The Night Opens and Closes

    by

    acceptance, borders, desire, dissatisfaction, erato, lonely, poetry
    Mid-December moon
    rises full behind the trees;
    each month, I’m stunned still.
    Moon, my only friend,
    you’ve seen me through such phases:
    who drinks with you now?
    This morning, the moon
    illuminates my waking,
    a cold reflection.
    (December 17, 2013)

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  • erosion

    by

    doubt, fate, fragments, poetry, traces
    to wake with blood
    oozing from my speech
    teeth crack against teeth
    tension’s slow mastication
    grinds across the night
    with unrelenting ease
    until who I am thins beneath
    this skin leaving only traces
    to hint at what remains

    (December 16, 2013)

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