verse | verse
Mar.05.2013
Stripped down...mimimalist...austere...spare...
Words that have been employed by folks to describe my writing "style". Sometimes, I've used them myself, as I struggle to sum up my artistic aesthetic or approach to literature (or whatever the hell you want to call it).
I confess: description bores...
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Dec.03.2011
My guest on today’s “A Book and a Chat” is Caroline Starr Rose, teacher poet, member of the Class of 2K12 and now author. Caroline was an avid reader while young, and as we heard, also put on “magic shows” as “Caroline the Great”. She spent her childhood in the deserts of Saudi Arabia and...
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Oct.07.2011
Oh, I'd like to be Poet Laureate,the best literary ballgame around,to chronicle functionsand royal conjunctionswould suit me down to the ground.
To muse on the subtext of historymight prompt an account in free verse,but the annals of timewould ring with my rhymeand the picture would be none...
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Jun.12.2011
Here I am again, how strange to awakenFor the first time to the beautiful faceAnd to feel my limbs enlocked by this woman,Our arms like handles on a china vase,Which we form and fire within our embrace,Two separate beings fusing...
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Apr.28.2011
For some reason, my main blog over on WordPress is giving me some grief this morning, refusing to properly format a poem, despite having no problem with four other efforts. After spending 1/2 hour trying to get the poem right, I've given up for the time being and shall post it here instead.
In...
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Apr.12.2011
Up here in Canada's great Northwest, April brings blessed relief from five months of unremitting cold and also heralds, drumroll please, the arrival of National Poetry Month.
Is poetry going the way of the short story, its demise all but assured?
Nah! As long as this world boasts lovers of the...
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Dec.15.2010
Snow forecasts did not prescribe salt
causing traffic in winter to halt
and taxpayers' odium
at introuvable sodium
made teeth grit and find planning at fault!
Claimed drivers when ice capped their journey
'Winter's stockpile of salt's not come early.
This lack of base...
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Feb.13.2010
It is not the hand that caresses
It is the space that feeling embraces
It is the sound of the flute and not the flute itself!
My friend Peggy invited me to visit the Pacific Northwest a few months ago and asked me to bring along my native indian flute, because she said that she was going to take...
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Sep.22.2009
Virgo greets Libra,
pinion of the solstices,
holding in tension
summer light and winter dark,
A truce between them.
Tides mock ebbing sap,
harvest moon a memory,
echoes of dancing
in barns packed with...
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May.20.2009
What for wert thou, Mystery Food?
In shape like a sandwich,
In essence like goo,
The saddest part is that
I might still eat you.
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