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Tag: Poetry
IF. . .
Some days, this poem is essential as the air I breath. Today is one of those days: IF . . . by Rudyard Kippling IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming…
However
We hold ourselves away from the cold winds away from the darkness like moths addicted to the light like we are adoring of life. We still find ourselves alone in the dark flying upside down the fireflies flash giving us unlasting…
Anticipation
Lives inside my cellphone when its darkened face has more patience than my fidgeting hands massaging everything they touch working out the stiffness of tonight robbing reality of its dull sensitivity clumsily holding a hundred howevers. ← Previous Next→
The Happiest Man In Denmark
The happiest man at the bar is the Danish drunk. But he is happier in a way that seems to say he is also happier when he is more sober than the rest of anxious, anticipating us. Next…
Steve Jobs Juggling Apples
I am writing this post on an Apple Macbook. A Galileo has died. But he showed us Applo before departing. This poem should have been commissioned as his death poem. It should be. It still could be. Play A.R. Ammons Nothing’s…
Love in the Color L
This week my poem “Love in the color L” was published on Wild Violet Magazine. Thanks Wild Violet. You can read the poem by clicking here. Its’ also pasted below: Love Affair in the color L always Love Less,…
Fortunately, Kites do not listen to Logic
In light of some tension across Guatemala recently, here’s a poem from my book based on a beautiful aspect of the culture. Fortunately, Kites do not listen to Logic In Guatemala the Day of the Dead is the day…
When There Will Be Laughter
When There Will Be Laughter One day our great grandchildren will Remember the day when everyone burst Into the same simultaneous song of laughter: The priests and the pastors The atheists and agnostics The hippies and homosexuals all stopped Mid-sentence…
The First Time Someone Says, “I Love You.”
How it rings, repeated, Through future days and weeks, The subtle ripples of comfort, of confidence, The ripples of a feminine voice meeting The ripples of his. History will never remember the deepest details Of why we fight…
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