-
NEWOLOGY
I have decided it is now timeand I am establishing a newfield of study that blendsmathematics and political science,which I have named idiometry. Simply put, idiometry allows oneto measure just how close one cantake the statements or promisesif any politician and squarethem with the actual facts. Then you repeat this for allof the statements of…
-
THE OLD ROCKER
I reached the point in lifewhere I know the Byrds were right,I was so much older then,I’m younger than that now, andfor good measure Jethro Tull knewI was too old to rock ‘n’ rollbut far too young to die.And yet I am still inchoate,a product of the Big Bang, stellardust accreted temporarily.And the Webb Space…
-
WRITTEN
It was written for all to seebut went unseen as no oneentered the portal willingly,never sufficient curiosityto offset the foreboding.Everyone knew what it saidbut knowing and seeing areseparated by an unbridgeable chasm.It remained an imposed solitude,an isolation inherent in location,implicit in a world spinningoff its moral axis, time extendedand compressed, an irregular pulse.It was written…
-
THEATER OF THE ABSURD
If Aristophanes were suddenlyto arrive here, he would no doubtpause, but with the eye he had,would soon discover such a treasuretrove of material, he could producecomedies to last several lifetimes. The problem would be in findingthe right audience, for here we havelittle taste and patience for the sortof comedy at which he was so adept,and…
-
UNGAN SWEEPS THE GROUND
When you are cleaning,what becomes of the dirt?When you are bathing,what becomes of the water?When you exhale,what becomes of the breath?When the moon disappearsis the moon truly gone?When you ask your teacher,what becomes of the question?If you sit quietly on the matand do not think of this,what becomes of you? A reflection on Case 21…
-
AT THE CAFE
We sit acrossfrom each otherseparated bythe small tablethat teeters,her cappuccinolicking at the rim.My toes danceagainst hersand she looks upquizzically.I smile and reachfor her handtouching her fingersfeeling the fine silverof the rings on each.She pulls her handback and looksinto the richbrown sheen.I stare out the windowat the odd carlookingfor a spacein the overfull lot,then pullingback ontothe…
-
DO AS I SAY
Eat your vegetables,Don’t ever run with scissors,Clean your room,Always wear clean underwear,Comb your hair every morning,Always say please and thank you,Always listen to adults, they know more,Be nice to animals and small children,Clean your room,Don’t go in the water for an hour after eating,Polish your shoes,Don’t play with sticks, you could put an eye out,Clean…
-
WORDS, WORDS, WORDS
They can have sharp edgesthat wound on contact, some cutsso deep they leave lasting scars. They can get stuck in the throatuntil you feel you can no longerbreathe, no longer cry out for help. They can lie there, anaggregate always acretingand yet rejecting any meaning. Or they can, carefully chosenpresent great beauty, offerhope, promise freedom.…
-
PRAVDA
If I was in Russia Iwould have no problemfinding a title for this poemfor it would be The Last. I would write that I mournthe children, men, and womensacrificed to assuage hiswarped need for domination. I would write that I detesthis disregard of truth,supplanting it with his liesto justify his megalomania. I would write that…
-
HARLECH CASTLE
I stood on the rampartsthat cold, wet morninglooking out over the waitingIrish Sea, this day offeringonly rain and a November chill. Write haiku, she said to usand I thought of Bashoand Issu who never stoodon a 13th Century Welshfortress and never imaginedwriting about Llywelyngreat or not nearly so. In the rain and chillI scribbled furiously,retreated…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 