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IN LOVING MEMORY (17 this time)
Just what will the puppet king say or will he simply run and hide as we are left to mourn and pray Seventeen more are dead today, we know better than to abide just what will the puppet king say more hollow words, for which they pay “only more guns can stem the tide.” As…
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THE WALL
No one is certain who painted the words on the wall. No one knew when the painting occurred, someone noticed the words one morning and told others, and the word spread through town. People stopped to look at the words, but few understood what they meant. Soon there were pictures drawn around the words, familiar…
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AN INKLING
Writing is an art form that very many never see but the unseeing of the work is what elevates it to art. This is what you often hear from the unpublished, or even from the denizens of small press purgatory, the one the Vatican will never acknowledge, for the poets corner of heaven is so…
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HAVING WRIT, MOVED ON
She says she sees the whole book in her head before she kills it putting pen to paper. It is there, she says where it dies immovable on the page. I invite the words onto the page as well and hope they take a life of their own expressing my intentions if not my thoughts…
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BROKEN VOW
Then there are the days when the promise to write hangs over me like a curse, when the words are just loose associations of almost random letters and they deny, defy real meaning. It is on this day where, when all is set on the page, I move slowly on leaving this behind.
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TO BE, OR NOT
As he begins to speak, she realizes this conversation will, as usual, devolve into a monologue. It is always this way, and with a finely honed skill, she, eyes wide open, slips out of this moment. She is certain, correctly so, he will never notice. He will fill in her nods, assume she has heard…
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NOTELESS
He says, “I write songs without music, my head is a libretto warehouse.” She says, “You string words like random beads, no two strands the same.” He says, “Symmetry is for those with linear minds, who can’t see out of the tunnel.” She said, “Dysentery is a disease to be avoided particularly by poets.” He…
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ROYA’S MOUNTAINS AND RIVERS
If I ask you to look out the window and tell me what is there, what will you say? If you say there are trees and a house in the distance, I will tell you to tell me what is there, not what you mind creates. If you again tell me there are trees and…
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SKELETONS
Their corpses have been gathering dust in the closet where I keep them, in boxes, once neatly labeled, but the collection has grown so large I’ve given up any attempt at organization. I do, periodically, take a glance into the boxes, take a few out and carefully consider them, but heeding the proscription, I always…
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SO TO SPEAK
It is hard, he says, to put your cart before your horse when you have neither. So then you are left with the choice of whether to buy a horse and try to overload it until it cannot walk or a cart easily filled that no one can move, or to just buy a half…
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an old writer and his words 