-
LISA, ONCE
A phone call, a lawyer’s clerk:Can you tell me about Lisa Landesman?I pause for that is a name I havenot heard in forty years, savein a poem I once wrote,now long forgotten. She was my sister for twoor three weeks, adopted like I was,and then Mike, my then fatherdropped dead of a massiveheart attack and…
-
TOO SOON
The leaves will soon begintheir descent from the small tree,already brown, their beautydeparting before they do so. They are bilobular, an odd word,but one that belongs in a poem,even this one it seems, and it istheir shape that you first notice. The tree will all to soon be naked,branches sticking into the airas if searching…
-
DEMANDED TIME
I’ve made a practicewhich feels more like a demand,that each day I take a fewmoments or more and stopwhatever else I was, orshould have been, doingto write a poem. There are days, perhaps thisone where it seems morea short bit of prose to whichI have added line breaksdespite the protestof the words, condemning themto bear…
-
EMERGENT
When I least expect it, onemay unfurl wings and liftinto a clouded sky searchingfor the hidden sun, or it may wander off, a childmomentarily free of parentsoff to discover the real world, or it may retreat back intothe pen, unwilling to be seen,objecting to its misuse, or it may sit in front of the TVand…
-
EIRE
There are two principal problemswith Ireland, and I found bothto be utterly insurrmountable. Every town, even Galway Cityat any time of day or nightlooked like it should be a postcard. Add to that the horror that inevery pub I visited it was assumedthat if asked I would sing a song or, realizing I have no…
-
QINGYUAN’S “COME CLOSER”
Walk slowlythrough this bramble of words.Do not allow yourselfto become tangled in themthough they will certainly try.Tear out this pageburn it for faint warmthor steep it into tea,reduce it to simple fibers.Then it will bea poemof some small worth. A reflection on Case 10 of the Shobogenzo Koans (Dogen’s True Dharma Eye)
-
DARE I SAY
Few will dare say it, but Ihave always imagined myselfamong the few at most thingsso I suppose it falls to me. The lifecycle of the poetincises an arc and there arerecognizable nodes along its pathfrom beginning to end. The first poem published in ajournal, no matter how small,then one in a publication othershave heard of,…
-
VOW
I swore, once, that the poemI was struggling with would be my last. Actually I swore that more than once,several, maybe mamy times in fact. In my defense, that poemand the others that followed wereeach the last I wroteunder their respective oaths,so there was a fulfillment,however partial, of my vow. I am not making such…
-
FOUND POEM
Each morning, beforeI finish my morning cappuccino,I scan my email, hoping to finda perfect poem that hasgone forever unclaimed. I have enough skillto alter it sufficientlythat I can safely claim itas my own, if the ownerever were to appear,by adding, After XXXXX. All I have ever foundis the odd limerick andfrankly I can to betteron…
-
PENNED IN
He stares at the collectionof pens crammed tightly intoa coffee mug whose handlehad long since broken away. He knows some are dead,awaiting a proper burial,following a brief memorialservice paying homageto their illustrious past. He is certain that oneor more is secretly harboringthe poem or story that hehas been meaning to write,the one that the journalon…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 