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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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  • belied by circumstance

    by

    alone, clarity, happiness, identity formation, poetry, process, process, not a journey

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (25)

    walking the beach

    before dawn

    before the gulls

    pierce

    their pointed cries

    through the waves’

    unrelenting crush

    I drown

    in the wash 

    of noise

    my thoughts beaten

    calm and submissive

    I have no voice

    among these voices

    they are still

    lashed into silence

    by the cold waves

    the sun’s first

    motifs float

    along the edge

    of the sea

    slight pinks

    and greens

    define night’s end

    alone on the shore

    I know who I am

    without interpretation’s

    variance to distract

    (February 7, 2020)

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  • contrapuntal

    by

    poetry, work in progress

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (24)

    in the turn of dawn and dusk’s

    vague half-light night becomes

    neither herself nor the other

    but a transitory beast slavering

    wildly ahead or at the heels

    of the raging sun

                                        shadows pulse

    through me with celestial fire

    each rock leaf flower

    each grain of sand vibrates

    in resonance the textures

    of the world

                            I am all I am

    and all I am not a conduit

    for violent streams which fall

    silent into a churning sea

    (February 6, 2020)

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  • Daily Prayer

    by

    acceptance, dissatisfaction, existential angst, life, poetry, prayer, time

    “we are our own prisons.”

                –Joel Brouwer

    barely audible

    tumblers click

    into place

    –

    words turn keys

    jam snap off

    and trap us here

    –

    telling the same tale

    confident the end

    will change for us

    –

    confident the end

    will not end for us

    as it always has

    –

    forever and ever

    amen

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  • constellations

    by

    attention, awe, interrelationships, meditation, patterns, poetry, process, not a journey

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (23)

    starlings turn a double-helix into themselves

    their poetry drifts through dark clouds

    –

    I murmur my admiration

    still stunned after years

    of seeing them dance

    like calligraphy through silent air

    –

    what’s written into our veins

    century by century

    flows darkly

    in a continuous reel

    beneath these stars

    (February 2, 2020)

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  • then and now

    by

    aging, change, poetry, process, process, not a journey, work in progress

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (22)

    once I was cynical

    now I’m just defeatist

    –

    once I was sarcastic

    now I’m just bitter

    –

    once I was happy

    now I am just old

    –

    like the earth I decay

    a slow spiral into the sun

    (January 31, 2020)

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  • days proceed to the end of time

    by

    borders, breach, change, fear, meditation, paradigm shifts, poetry, process, process, not a journey

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (21)

    the moon hangs on the horizon

    a waterdrop waits on a leaf

    –

    we are on an edge

    –

    like acrobats along a wire or

    a knife at our voiceless throats

    –

    I don’t know where we fell away

    (January 30, 2020)

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  • nets are made of holes

    by

    borders, poetry, process, not a journey, relationships, time, work in progress

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (20)

    she remembers the future

    he slips through the past

    –

    she watches patterns within

    patterns unfold like ice

    –

    he reweaves strands

    unravelling on the floor

    –

    the difference lies

    in the holes between

    (January 28, 2020)

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  • nothing much

    by

    acceptance, change, meditation, patterns, poetry, process, not a journey, renga, work in progress, zen

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (19)

    Cashel, Co. Tipperary

    several years ago

    for several years

    nothing came to entrance me

    –

    more specifically

    doors entranced me

    the emptiness of doors

    –

    the simple lack of existence

    led me further to rooms

    and bowls cups and spoons

    –

    it wasn’t the rooms the doors

    the bowls cups or spoons

    but the pure embedded absence

    –

    nothing was useful

    nothing was transcendent

    the absence the lack the emptiness

    (January 25, 2020)

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  • disambiguation

    by

    acceptance, change, cycle, delusion, difference, elemental, meditation, patterns, poetry, process, not a journey

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (18)

    I’ve been here before

    floating adrift frightened

    the water is cold

    –

    a door opens

    I walk through an emptiness

    to arrive in another

    –

    I’ve been here before

    this time the people are blue

    and the music hasn’t started

    –

    a door opens

    air rushes in

    to fill the space

    –

    I don’t want to repeat

    but no one is listening

    and patterns are seductive

    –

    years later

    the same song plays

    I dance alone

    –

    I’ve been here before

    a door opens

    I step through

    –

    there is no dream

    there is no metaphor

    the wind is silent

    (January 23, 2020)

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  • how poetry asserts itself

    by

    belief, change, context, creativity, meditation, poetics, poetry, ways of knowing, work in progress

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (17)

    he alludes to a poem as if others

    know what he thinks about before he can

    speak which in this case means before he can

    think his thoughts being like Rube Goldberg

    devices clacking along tripping springs and

    traps which propel the odd idea along

    tangential routes until finally falling

    into its assigned slot and everything

    stops and silence expands like waves of water

    rippling across the surface of a lake

    eventually lapping the far shore

    where a small boy plays with a wooden boat

    never once thinking about poetry

    (January 23, 2020)

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  • practical cat

    by

    poetry

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (16)

    in fog 

    a hiss

    scratches

    the skin

    (January 23, 2020)

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  • quandary

    by

    borders, broken, choice, despair, doubt, hesitation, paradigms, poetry, sentence, tension

    “sadness of those unschooled in the bottles’ gloom”

    –Rene Char, Poets

    Tonight, I hold my shape

    tenuously, like a rabbit,

    tense, on the edge

    of a field: hold tight

    in silence, or flee

    into the brush?

    (January 22, 2020)

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  • the floating world

    by

    clarity, contentment, meditation, objectivism, poetry, process, not a journey, renga, syllabics, work in progress, zen

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (15)

    from the upstairs window

    the grey cat waits

    and watches shadows

    shift like dark flowers

    dance in morning light

    (January 21, 2020)

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  • amorphous

    by

    borders, change, doubt, dream, fear, identity formation, liminal, paradigm shifts, paradigms, poetry, process, not a journey, ways of knowing, work in progress

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (14)

    forgetting the pattern of fear

    and doubt tangled about me

    I fall out of sleep and remember

    what parts of myself I need

    –

    to continue some resemblance

    of the day the inessential shades

    my ghosts as darkly as the essential

    each shifts its position evasively

    –

    when questioned like a cat

    slips through shadow and grass

    (January 21, 2020)

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  • the future was a threat

    by

    aging, change, paradigm shifts, paradigms, patterns, poetry, process, process, not a journey, renga, school, work in progress

    from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (13)

    in school we were always on the move

    field trips to museums to math class

    with Mr. Buesing to middle school

    to high school to college the future

    was a threat brandished like a whip

    –

    by degrees our world turned

    then it stopped and I stumbled

    and found myself here in the mud

    like a body dropped from the door

    of a passing car

    (January 18, 2020)

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