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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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  • A Good Worker

    by

    Arcana, dissatisfaction, fate, life, poetry, tarot
    after being smacked with a club again
    my skull cracked and bleeding it seems
    I would not worry so much as I still do
    I will do what I need to do because I do
    not so much from pride ‘though that’s there
    but knowing I have and will do so again
    happiness is an illusion not merely illusive
    but irrelevant as the task before me waiting
    again to be taken up by these broken hands
    (from a work in progress: “Arcana,” IXWands, January 2, 2014)

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  • Everything is Beautiful

    by

    Arcana, doubt, erato, hope, irony, poetry, sonnets, tarot
    “Every angel is terrifying.
    And so I hold myself back and swallow the call-note of my dark sobbing.”
                                        –Rainer Maria Rilke
    What angel hides
    within my words
    I am afraid
    I will succeed
    that what I want
    will come to me
    happiness’
    fragility
    frightens me so
    I can’t hold on
    I cannot trust
    my own desires
    to keep me safe
    from my success
    (from a work in progress, “Arcana” AcePentacles, January 1, 2014)

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  • a new world

    by

    Arcana, life, liminal, love, poetry, tarot

    he confesses to her of love
    destruction ripples behind
    a destination somewhere else
    ahead the water’s quite calm
    but here still turbulent and deep
    his hand on the tiller leads them away
    where are we going with all this
    she asks almost noticing the change
    where we want to go he hesitates
    hoping she heard what he said
    *
    our oceans fold oceans of tears
    waves crush the past into sand
    all travelers step to a shore
    but not always hand in hand

    (from a work in progress: “Arcana,” VISwords, January 1, 2014)

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  • the world we came from

    by

    Arcana, life, love, meaning, process, tarot, traces, ways of knowing
    everything and everyone in the village sparkled
    along the edges of the lush green carpet grass
    we danced and played often in the summer rain
    we’d rush madly to dad’s shop to carve boats
    then trailing them behind us on bits of  string
    we’d splash down the sidewalks with glee
    we all knew each other and everyone cared
    the neighbors laughed and talked over beers
    the waiting terrors prowled abstractly far away

    (from a work in progress, “Arcana,” VICups, December 31, 2013)

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  • a quick success, then home

    by

    Arcana, fate, poetry, storytelling
    on the hill in the distance home waits
    but for now I work within a wood
    where most of my problems are my own
    and these too will vanish soon like frost
    melting from the bare braches about me
    #
    the sun climbs higher into a clearer sky
    the once warming of work now sweats
    so I break for water not quite noticing
    the quick cry and flutter of nearby birds
    singing their sharp pips after seed
    #
    if I pause to watch each glisten of light
    I will not compete the task set before me
    and discover what every dead man knows
    the world will wobble on from winter
    until spring with or without me along

    (from a work in progress: “Arcana,” VIIIWands, December 30,2013)

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  • détente

    by

    Arcana, desire, dream, erato, life, mythic, poetry, tarot, traces
    beneath the waxing moon the sea spreads
    sleepily before him as her hair in dreams
    washes across his bed sheets in waves
    for now what one wishes the other blindly
    complies toward their mutual satisfaction
    for what one needs the other completes
    yet the seductive calm belies troubles
    on the edges of the half-sunken rocks
    for the sirens sing only for themselves
    (from a work in progress, “Arcana,” IISwords, December 30, 2013)

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  • three graces

    by

    desire, erato, love, mythic, poetics, poetry, tarot
    stepping on toes
    and singing of love
    I mumble and stumble
    through my songs
    me to you to her
    feet slide behind feet
    hands caress hands
    our moves circle
    we raise our cups
    and long to kiss
    we sing our songs
    and dance within the other

    (from a work in progress: “Arcana,” IIIcups, December 30, 2013)

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  • intoxicant

    by

    Arcana, erato, love, poetry, relationships, tarot
    for years now
    unknown
    I believe
    to you
    I have drunk
    from your passions
    and laughter
    moment by moment
    insatiable

    (from a work in progress: “Arcana,” cupspage, December 29, 2013)

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  • Playing With Knives

    by

    anger, Arcana, fate, hubris, interrelationships, lonely, poetry, relationships
    aftermath’s laughter
    at friends sent away
    falls like swords’ clatter
    upon wet stone streets
    blood drips from my wounds

    (from a work in progress: “Arcana,” Vswords, December 29, 2013)

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  • The Longest Night of the Year

    by

    anger, community, doubt, life, memory, poetics, poetry, process, ritual, tarot
    it’s late
    the moon is in eclipse
    my wine glass is empty
    I rest my head in my hands
    beyond mere exhaustion
    or the constant sadness
    aching beneath my skin
    I should know by now
    after so many lifetimes
    of watching the night:
    the water rises at my feet
    the storm surge shall pass
    I have no fear of drowning
    I’ll find a way
    to draw myself
    writhing
    from my darker anger
    to harvest the  depths
    as a fisherman once again
    pulls his nets from the sea
    (from a work in progress: “Arcana” King of Cups, December 29, 2013)

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  • Form and Motion

    by

    i ching, poetry, traces, writing
    December  27, 1995
    The water takes the shape of the rock
    and gives it new shapes back.
    The flow continues, repeating contours,
    reinforcing each turn and drop.
    I study my shapeless shapes,

    then wander about the shifting dunes.

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

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  • poetry’s never true, always present

    by

    language, life, literature, metaphor, poetry, reading, traces
    a simple story pretends
    toward an epiphany
    from life’s narrative
    resolved along lines
    readers who expect everything
    to be tucked in tidy rows
    can know how to follow
    without all distraction’s rigmarole
    metaphor casually drops in the way
    like falling rocks onto a road
    after a mountain rainstorm
    causing so many misunderstandings
    through misreading which turn
    of phrase to follow now that
    the transparently obvious tale
    has once again troubled itself
    into something other than it was

    (December 27, 2013)

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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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