What’s New

May 30, 2015

Video poems, that’s what. It’s something I’ve wanted to do with my poetry for years, and now I have a way to implement that vision, wtth the help of Windows Movie Maker and stock footage sites like Videoblocks, Pond 5, and Videvo.

This is a truly gratifying way to give breadth and depth to a poem, and to reach people that may not consider themselves readers of poetry. They may discover that they are enthusiastic “watchers’ of poetry.

I have a few video poems up for viewing at my Vimeo site here.

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Signs

October 25, 2014

The pale horse
just got here.
His rider reassures
everyone there’s no need
to panic.

People are transfixed
by the spectacle,
the headlines and next of kin,
the cortege and the parade,
the celebrated, the contaminated.

We’re to wait three weeks
for a fever.
I’m sure he meant well,
but I think that cowboy
was trying to sell us something.


Best Friends

April 12, 2014

Short-haired dogs don’t like the cold;
twiggy legs shake and shiver.
Put a fleece coat on that fellow.
He won’t ask for it; you should
just know he needs it.


T-Zone vs Astringent

April 12, 2014

Determined to scrub the film
from my skin, remove the unclean
stick of it, I impose detergent and might
against this shield that in fact keeps me clean.
Its very nature, viscous and stubborn, presupposes
that I’ll attempt to undo it.
I inhabit a wise design
that in the end always outsmarts me.
Bare-skinned and squeaky clean for
mere moments before the film slides
back over, like a mother’s infinite reach,
though I continually refuse the anointing.


Untitled

April 4, 2014

Vintner, physician of the ferment,
undertaker of the vine, perverts
nature in reviving the grape gone
widdershins of ordinary decay.
A fruit zombie, raised up
from the oaken grave
to toast life.


May Is Still 6 Months Away

December 1, 2013

Thank you to Rob and Michelle at The Poet’s Billow for the good news. Now I’m on to the next goal!

PUSHCART PRIZE

Mom and Dad preserved the writings in an envelope, the paper now softened

nearly to cloth over some 40 years: my first poems. I touched them, admired the early

attention to penmanship, embellished with childish drawings at the bottom.

I pressed them close to my face, smelled my home and that year of being eight and nine.

I resurrected my parents’ pride and held the paper close to my face whispering into its fibers,

“I’ve been nominated.”


Messin’ Around

September 28, 2013

Thanks to Cubby,  I’ve been inspired to try new things with poetry. Well, not exactly new things, but I’m moved to
revisit the metered poem, and to try structured pieces, like villanelles, sestinas and their friends.

I’m not a big fan of form (as it relates to poetry), but I respect the creativity and care required to execute a well-written piece that regards form. You probably won’t see any pantoums or sonnets here anytime soon, but I’m enjoying working with blank verse again (metered & unrhymed).

The specimen below is something between an exercise and a real poem. Sometimes posting these things here lights a fire under my ass and my editing eye sharpens drastically. It might improve, or it may never change. But even as it is, you could almost dance to it.

Whole Notes

A poem is a spell, sorcery

a musical incantation,

trills and grace notes and metaphors

a conjuring of the god songs.

 

A selfish thing and a giving thing

depending on the receiver,

a common rhyme or arcanum

for the open mind to savor.

 

Octaves, tercets, and algebra,

the heart it drums in eights and fours,

waltzing words and arias soaring,

diving signs and wonders.