I am not a poet. Well, no more than the next person, I’d say. But as a writer, I think poetry is a useful tool. I learn from writing poetry, whether it’s free verse or a more formal structure. Like etudes to the pianist, I learn technique through poetry. I learn how to be spare.
I put some of my poetry online here, today, a new annex off the Writing page. Some of them still make me smile. Many are bittersweet, as that’s the mood that most resonates with my Inner Poet. Rueful, I guess.
In my opinion, poetry should not read like prose, as so often happens these days. Like a lot of modern art, I think a lot of modern poetry is a sham. But I’m an old, crusty curmudgeon, so what do I know, eh?
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Remember when I posted the sad story of a 
A lot went right with the release of Beneath a Wounded Sky and the completion of The Fallen Cloud Saga. Overall, I’m very pleased with the product, inside and out. Don’t kid yourself, people do judge a book by its cover…and by its font, and even by the quality of its title page. A good product, a quality product, will sell better than something that looks like it was put together by a grade-schooler.
Aeons ago, when I was young and was still a serious musician, there were performances—I can count them on one hand—when the Muse was with us. We all knew it, every musician on stage; we knew. This concert was special.
