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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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  • Epoch Encounter

    by

    aging, awareness, borders, change, climate change, future, interrelationships, poetry, sonnets


    The afternoon sun glares down without ire

    as I step out onto the front sidewalk.

    A horned lizard eyes me, suspiciously

    tilts its head into the still of the day.

    Aware without motion, I am no threat

    where I am. It’s warm in the sun, why move?

    This lumbering slow beast cannot compete. 

    It knows without knowing; we are killing 

    ourselves. Small, hot, warm-blooded, bound in fur,

    we were no more than rats when its kind loomed

    across the humid landscape. Choking on 

    our own waste, we will perish soon enough.

    There’s no hurry. It turns back, looks at me

    with disdain, then patiently darts away.

    (May 24, 2026)

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  • benowhere

    by

    abstract, acceptance, alone, liminal, poetry, present, time

    before now

    before then

    as when waits

    tomorrow


    there I was

    in the weeds

    as always

    forlorn lost


    the path stopped

    abruptly

    so clearly

    marked then gone


    outside time

    without thought

    (May 23, 2026)

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  • fixed

    by

    anxiety, broken, difference, exercise, fragments, interrelationships, liminal, meaning, perspective, poetry, reader response, revision, rewriting other poems, sentence

    1.

    i cannot move

    too much is broken

    2.

    demons live in mirrors

    and are trying to escape

    3.

    it’s almost tuesday

    yet there are no doors

    4.

    there is a dream

    i cannot see

    (May 19, 2026)

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  • Witching Hour

    by

    audacity, change, clarity, community, forgiveness, life, liminal, love, paradigms, poetry, relationships

    After picking herbs,

    She muddles the mint

    or basil depending

    on what’s to follow.

    She bruises the leaves

    like an abusive lover

    into an intimacy

    he can swallow.

    After all,

    what is allowed

    is tolerated—

    no matter

    the consequence,

    of some god’s rage.

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  • Trying to Write After Last Evening’s BBQ

    by

    acceptance, agency, aging, drinking, life, liminal, meditation, perspective, poetry, tired, writing

    I could write about the dogs,

    their usual sniffs and yips

    as they go about their doggy lives,

    but they are both curled asleep

    on the rugs in the front room;

    or I could write about Lisa, 

    who I have loved and written

    about for more than forty years,

    but she too is quietly napping

    in one of the  overstuffed chairs 

    by the back room’s windows.

    Outside, the wind waves slowly

    through the sycamore and oaks

    like a man treading water off shore.

    Earlier a friend sent me an article

    showing Americans who say they drank

    over the last year has declined

    by a third since the 1970’s.

    This does not alleviate at all

    the grey flannel feeling this hangover

    has draped across my melancholy day.

    (May 17, 2026)

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  • Insomnia

    by

    anxiety, doubt, fear, lament, poetry, time, worry

    It is three forty-seven in the morning;

    my eyes are closed, I am still not asleep.

    The old whispered violence collects

    like spittle along the corners of my lips.

    An anger suppressed by custom

    and obedience waits with patience,

    its old friend, for others to gather

    from their day of quite rage.

    The night cannot go on unbroken;

     the day will surely return to itself.

    Yet there is no reason to assume

    the moon will fall or the sun will rise.

    My eyes are closed, I am still not asleep;

    It is three fifty-one in the morning.

    (May 14, 2026)

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  • Quick Take on The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Leguin

    by

    books, literature, reader response, reading

    I finished May’s RFB book, The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Leguin, a few minutes ago. Great book. It was published 50 years ago, and it still reads as if it is commenting on the contemporary world. I good sign of it being a powerful work of art. The book is set on the two worlds of Annaris, and Urras; worlds which share a common people, but very divergent ideologies. Annaris’s  being anarchy, and Urras—capitalism. On Annaris the populace pursues their own interests as long as they do not harm others, each of the citizens taking turns with the tasks which benefit all by either volunteering or by lottery. Everybody is taken care of during hard times, and everyone works to help each other survive on a very hostile world. While on Urras people are caught up in the manipulative games, which help the individual get ahead. The planet is divided into competing countries which are often at war, while the countries are built upon a caste system where there are owners and workers. This is not to say that Leguin sees one as a paradise and the other as despicable. Annaris has over time lost much of its revolutionary drive and there are cliques of special interests who resist change and innovation, where on Urras, the governments have, through strict control, managed to create a world of beauty if not equality. In addition to the obvious political themes of communalism and capitalism, the book has strong currents of feminist thought, class, science and creativity; loyalty, love and friendship. It was a fun read full of ideas and possibilities which I like in Science Fiction. 

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  • woke

    by

    agency, awareness, frustration, oblivious, poetry, privilege, snarky

    if

    —as when each night

    i close my eyes and pretend

    to be asleep so that

    i will fall asleep—


    i pretend

    to close my mind

    to the injustice

    in the world

    will it cease to exist? 

    (May 5, 2026)

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  • Twins

    by

    aging, borders, liminal, poetry, sleepless, tired

    “How have you made division of yourself?”

    —W. Shakespeare, 12th Night, 5.1

    I lean over

    my sleeping body

    run my hand

    down my arm

    to wake myself—


    I feel my presence

    above me—

    -time to wake up-

    I stir reluctantly,

    but I am so tired.


    Still I wake enough

    to find myself

    -crawling back into bed-

    once again alone

    and return to sleep.

    (May 3, 2026)

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  • reading is difficult

    by

    books, hubris, Language and Literacy, literacy, poetry, process, reading

    to decipher with speed

    from repetitive marks

    in a collection of pages

    one clump of sounds

    and their relationship

    to another sequence

    centimeters apart

    then reconnecting

    them all with ease to other

    clusters arranged in similar

    fashion across hundreds

    and hundreds of pages

    and between hundreds

    and hundreds of books

    often returning to see

    again in unseen ways

    the meaning change

    in deeper and more 

    complex manners

    for the entirety 

    of one’s short life

    and even so one

    still feels as if 

    one knows nothing

    nothing at all

    (May 2, 2026)

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  • Elder Gods

    by

    attention, awareness, change, floating world, haiku, life, nature, poetry, samsara, tanka

    All day a thick rain

    thunders from the darkened sky;

    the dogs hide inside.


    Pigeons coo, “What’s up with you?”

    as the rain begins to wane.

    (April 30, 2026)

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  • Trying to Look Casual

    by

    acceptance, borders, control, difference, erasure, identity formation, paradigms, poetry, process, revision, transition, ways of knowing

    He stopped forgetting,

    and began again to see

    the shadows in the trees.


    No longer willing

    to hide in oblivion’s

    darker eddies,


    his questions turned

    to soft acceptance,

    and he felt free.


    Memory shifted

    and reshaped itself

    to a looser fit,


    more comfortable

    to the details

    he wished to deny.

    (April 30, 2026)

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  • Political Song

    by

    agency, attention, awareness, beauty, change, community, existential angst, fear, future, hope, life, love, poetry, politics, power, resistance

    my resistances arise

    through the day


    in the way 

    I see


    the trees leaf

    the roses bud


    and bloom only

    to let go


    their petals

    to the ground


    and here

    as well as there


    in the streets

    filled with anger


    is a beauty

    and a love


    which must be held

    with all our arms


    and named

    with all our voices


    no matter how small

    or fleeting


    we feel our hearts 

    to be


    no matter the terror

    slithering nearby


    laugh as well

    as mourn


    sing as well 

    as scream


    see more

    than is allowed


    see what we were

    see what we are


    and see what

    we can become

    (April 29, 2026)

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  • The Difference Between Hope and Desire

    by

    borders, definition, desire, difference, hope, interrelationships, meaning, poetry

    Both long for some other than exists now,

    and then vanish when consummated.


    Both, in their hearts, contain a tarnished shard

    of pessimism which gives them a meaning.


    Both are wrapped in a spongey optimism

    to protect them from dark life’s toxic barbs.


    Both are twin aspects of an endless hell:

    one leads you there, one absconds at the gate.

    (April 26, 2026)

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  • Forever – is composed of Nows –

    by

    agency, attention, awareness, choice, clarity, home, life, meditation, objectivism, poetry, present, spring, time

    —11:11am, 81 degrees

    After an interrupted sleep,

    I am slow to wake

    into a muggy spring morning.

    The dogs were restless

    and anxious all night

    disturbed by shadows

    shifting across the moonlit yard. 

    Both now curl at my feet,

    silently asleep. 

    I sip my second cup,

    stare out the window

    at the sycamore’s leaves 

    slowly stirring the still air,

    and try to start the day.

    (April 26, 2026)

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