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ON STAGE
NOTE: My new book is here at last. It has been 16 years in the making, nine of which I have spent producing this blog. Since you have been following and reading my work which I appreciate, if you would like a copy Free of the Shadow for $10 (shipping included) rather than its list…
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DUALITIES
There is the knowing and the not knowing,there is the seeing and the not seeing,the hearing and the silence, but therecannot be the being and the not, regardlessof what Hamlet may suggest as a question.Even Yorick realized this, perhaps too late.No one listened to Horatio on the parapettoo busy in their own soliloquies to hear.But…
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TANKA, TANKA, HAIKU
The dawn sky arrivesvelvet blue on my fingersand the gathered birdshear the cobalt song of dayin this our private heaven On this sapphire nightstars search for the missing moonthe blue sky of dawnis still deeply in hidingfrom night’s moment of glory Oceans remembera time before we arrivedtheir once deep blueness
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SHE WILL ARRIVE
In this place and timeof year our hauntings comefrom the sea, she that usuallybewitches us can turn angryand unleash her spite and spittle,and she will not be sateduntil we all concede our impotence.She cares nothing for doors,goes through one and all thatimagine they stand in her way.We know she will come, not when,and in the…
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NIGHT AGAIN
It is well past midnight and outsidethe birds and frogs in the wetlandannounce the rain, unnecessary really,as it beats a steady rhythm on the roofand windows, pierced onlyby claps of thunder and the lightningwhich gives them short announcement.The light dances through the closedwindow blinds on what ought to bean ink black night, and I knowthe…
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PUEBLO CHRISTMAS
The night is that bitter coldthat slices easily throughnylon and Polartec, makeschild’s play of fleece and denim.The small rooms glowin the dim radiance of propane lightsand heaters as the silveris carefully packed awayin plastic tool boxes.The pinyon wood is neatly stackedin forty pyres, some little tallerthan the white childrenclinging to their parents’ legs,some reaching twenty-five…
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SHEPHERDING
Today I paused to considerhow odd it must be for thoseborn, bred and always livingin a city, say New York, andto sill be a lover of poetry.So many poets, from Keatsto Hirshfield will take youinto nature, bathe you in wordsbeneath a star lit sky, sit youin a meadow, breathing airthat has never known the exhaustof…
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ELAINE
It’s 12 degreesthe night airslices throughmy sweatermy teeth chatter.Standing in the lotfetching my cell phonefrom the glove boxmy breath congealsaround my facea cloud.I look upat the moonsnowflakes dancingon my forehead.Luna’s faceis shroudedby a cirrus veil,but her eyesare yoursher lips softcaressingcurl upwardsin a smileas yours.I tell herof my loveand she whispersher lovereflectivelyin the voiceI hearas I…
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CELESTIAL AWE
He says that there isa really good chance thatso much of astronomyis delusion, that allof astronomy is history.Go out in the countrywhere there are nostreetlights and lookat the sky and the multitudeof stars that you see.There are atlases listingthe name or numberof each of them butstop and realize howmany of them nowno longer exist as…
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ALBANY, THURSDAY NIGHT
It is a cheap moteljust off the highway,across from the mallnow almost empty of cars,a room not much biggerthan a bed, a desk anda small nightstand.The diet cola is sweatingdespite the breezeof the air conditioner,the television flickers.I have left a wake up callhoping I arise beforethe jangle of the phoneknowing I will not.Corso lies on…
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an old writer and his words 