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SAID THE LITTLE MAN
NOTE: TODAY’S POST FOLLOWS BELOW: Dear poetry-lovers, Thank you from the bottom of my heart for following my blog. Some of you have been daily readers since it began 9 years ago, some are more sporadic or more recent followers. Thank you one and all. As you can imagine, it takes a fair amount…
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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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YOU
This year, just before Thanksgiving we will have been together for a quarter of a century, which sounds more elegant than saying twenty-five years. That will be more than a third of my life, if only barely, but when I stop to think that I have spent almost a third of my life sleeping, the third I have spent…
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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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A TROIS
Each night I crawl under the sheetscurled against the woman I loveand beside me slips your ghost.For sixty years you were no morethan a fleeting dream faceless, nameless,an infrequent visitor to my galleryof hopes, desires, and wishes.You never had a face, did Ihave one you could remember beforeI was plucked from you too soon, youlurking…
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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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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 EMPTY BAG
I reached into my bag of dreamsand came up emptyI’m not sure what to make of thissince I cannot rememberthe last time I opened the bag.Usually I let them sneak in and outin the night, and some nightsthey avoid me, mostly,but now they shun me by dayand I don’t know howto deal with that so…
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ALBLANY 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 phone,knowing I will not.Corso lies on…
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NIGHT
The night slowly encases the citythe river flows on toward the lakebirds shiver in the biting chill,the street light flickers and goes out,the wind whistles around the windows,snow begins to coat the trees’ bare branches,a squirrel looks up forlornly,the traffic light inexorably changes colors,TV’s flicker behind curtained windows,we slide beneath the blankets,sleep comes slowly to…
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an old writer and his words 