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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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  • We are Each Other’s Echo

    by

    communication, control, conversation, erato, eros, identity formation, interrelationships, language, love, poetry, sonnets


    “I am addressing someone whom you do not know but who is there, at the end of my maxims”
    –Roland Barthes
    He talks to himself
    As if possible
    To be
    Who she imagines
    Someone he might
    Have been
    If she had spoken
    In complete sentences
    Someone you might
    Have become
    If I had listened
    To the end of my sentence
    But no one listens
    To anything he says

    (June 12, 2017)

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  • Locked Doors

    by

    broken, communication, conversation, desire, erato, eros, interrelationships, love, other, poetry, relationships, sonnets
    “it is precisely there where you are not”
    –Roland Barthes
    He said then she said
    Interspersed and followed
    By silence’s awkward
    Focus where seconds
    Transcribe alternative
    Conversations behind
    Walls manufactured
    From imaginary sin
    Until he or she speaks
    Opening and closing
    Doors as if hunting
    For the something which
    Would unlock the secret

    Of their stale hearts
    (June 12, 2017)

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  • Desire’s but a Breath

    by

    hope, life, poetry

    “I desire its return, not its repetition. I say to the other (old or new): Let us begin again.”
    –Roland Barthes
    he stops to listen—
    holds his breath
    to hear his heart:
    the thrum and pulse
    beneath the skin
    like whale song
    beneath the waves
    he’s drowning within

    (June 8, 2017)

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  • What is Out of Reach Propels Us

    by

    borders, change, desire, erato, eros, hope, love, mythic, poetry, sonnets


    “it is my desire I desire, and the loved being is no more than its tool.”
    –Roland Barthes
    Something amorphous hid
    in the shadows.
    It whispered the edges
    Of his conversations,
    A slow susurration
    Beneath anything she said.
    He felt a need for something
    He could not define.
    He knew the stories—
    The liaisons, the beheadings;
    Yet, he desired more
    Than just to listen.
    So, he ignored his heart,
    And stepped into the dark.

    (June 8, 2017)

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  • Quilt

    by

    change, desire, erato, eros, fragments, love, poetry, relationships, social construction, storytelling
    “I reconstitute a memory”
    –Roland Barthes
    By now neither hears
    The other tell a story
    Different than the one
    They shared. The past shatters
    In the moment. Memory’s
    Scattered bits cohere
    Only through proximity
    And a desire to cohere.
    The emotional scraps
    Linger. He sanctifies
    His past in phrases,
    Images, intonations,
    Until what she possibly
    Meant when she did
    What he remembers
    Becomes a patchwork
    In which he wraps himself
    Against the oncoming cold.

    (June 7, 2017)

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  • The Decay of a Static Orbit

    by

    change, desire, erato, eros, interrelationships, loss, love, poetry, romance
    “Am I in love? —Yes, since I am waiting. The Other never waits.”
    –Roland Barthes
    She moved. He stayed
    Still, waiting for her
    To return. As if he
    Were the fixed point
    And she the turning world
    Which would revolve
    Back to him again.
    Yet too much noise
    Slid between them.
    His words, garbled
    In half-heard metaphor,
    Were lost; while the velocity
    of her arc made him
    tangential to her heart.

    (June 5, 2017)

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  • Three Words

    by

    communication, definition, erato, eros, love, poetry
    “they are at the extreme limit of language, where language itself  (and who else would do so in its place?) recognizes that it is without backing or guarantee, working without a net.”
    –Roland Barthes
    Taciturn
    by nature,
    My words mean
    What they say.
    No dance of obfuscation
    To tease out a deceit,
    I said it quietly,
    Sincerely.
    Then as now,
    They are
    What I have
    To offer.

    (June 4, 2017)

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  • Defined Away

    by

    community, conversation, erato, poetry, social construction
    “I envision myself nibbled up by other’s words, dissolved in the ether of gossip.
    –Roland Barthes
    Through her talk
    With her friends,
    He was contained,
    Made safe, behind
    A wall of words.
    He was unaware
    Of the incremental
    Layers, which shaped
    The shell
    She placed him in.
    Out of hearing
    He dissolved
    Into a side character
    Forgotten before
    A scene ends.
    He was left
    A revision
    Defined in her
    Story, silenced,
    Mocked.
    (June 3, 2017)

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  • Revision

    by

    desire, erato, love, reader response, revision
    “I Hallucinate my Desire”
    –Roland Barthes
    It was not her,
    But the cliché
    He clothed her in
    With which he fell
    In love; it was
    She he wanted
    To be, not himself—
    The staid mockery,
    An easy fool
    To be displaced.
    Caught in his own
    Clichés as well
    As others, he said
    Too much too soon,
    Or too little too late;
    As if some other
    Past could be
    Rewritten into
    An iteration of all
    He could not become.

    (June 1, 2017)

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  • Some Interpretation Required

    by

    communication, desire, erato, eros, interpretation, interrelationships, love, perspective, poetry, relationships
     “I cannot decipher you because I do not know how you decipher me.”
    –Roland Barthes
    There was no text
    To translate.
    He lacked her context,
    And could not discern
    Her shape within her words.
    Not yet a ghost to her,
    He was translucent
    And vague, unsure
    If what she said
    Was what he heard.
    His edges slipped
    Between yes and no:
    A tangle of desire
    Too traduced and troubled
    To decipher with ease.

    (May 28, 2017)

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  • Love Struck

    by

    change, erato, love, muse, relationships
    “you resumed as best you could the thread of a story in which you no longer believed”
    –Roland Barthes
    Like a bird flying into glass
    The fall surprised him—
    The nothing he thought was there
    wasn’t—
    dazed, bloodied, bruised
    he rose and stumbled on
    almost as if he knew
    where he was going
    almost as if
    she never existed
    (May 26, 2017)

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  • Love Tropes

    by

    assignment, erato, lament, love, muse, perspective, poetry, vision
    “the wounds produced by stereotyped sight”
    –Wayne Koestenbaum, Forward to “A Lover’s Discourse”
    1

    he could only see
    what his words
    allowed—
    the wounds
    filled with salt
    of their own making
    he reacted accordingly
    through a bank
    of emotions
    a cacophonous disquiet
    embedded
    in presumption
    2
    her words were
    hers, askew
    to his vision
    she suffered not
    the barbs in his
    intent—
    oblivious
    to his exhortations
    she wandered away
    singing songs
    drenched
    in his blood

    (May 24, 2017)

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  • He Breaks the Wall

    by

    abstract, communication, definition, erato, interrelationships, language, meaning, memory, social construction
    He exists
    Within parenthesis,
    An aside
    To an inattentive audience.
    He fears not knowing,
    Being seen the fool;
    So, he stays silent
    As he sifts through her words.
    What he thought she said,
    She said,
    But not within the context
    That he thought.
    He said
    What he could say,
    Not
    What he should say.
    She said, he said
    What she would say,
    If he said
    What he should say.
    He breaks the wall,
    The membrane,
    Between thought and vision,
    Memory and forgetting,
    The impermeable space
    Of  parenthesis.
    Such are the pirouettes
    Which define his day.

    (May 22, 2017)

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  • All Fall Down

    by

    abstract, life, meaning, paradigms, poetry, social construction
    Meaning’s Absolute
    Falls into disarray
    By default,
    As easily as
    Children
    Collapse across the ground
    Feigning death.
    (May 23, 2017)

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  • Salt Marsh Haikus, with a Tanka Couplet

    by

    acceptance, attention, haiku, life, nature, poetry, sonnets, tanka
    Port Aransas, Texas
     The crane’s slow patience
    Waits on the edge of the pier,
    All moments are now.
    Wind across the marsh
    slides through the wavering grass,
    if I’m here or not.
    With a fluttered splash,
    A fish leaps into the air;
    There is no escape.
    With words we fix time.
    The pelican preens its wings,
    Our noise means nothing.
    Lost to simplicity,
    Days rush past us unnoticed.

    (May 22, 2017)

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