Posted in Creativity, Writing, tagged creative writing, modern poetry, poetry, vignettes on 09 Jan 2020| Leave a Comment »
thoughts upon thoughts
memories upon memories
last week
I remembered
the day we met
yesterday
I remembered
the day when I remembered
the day we met
this morning
I remember remembering
that I remembered
the day we met
now
I hold infinity in my mind
remembering all my
rememberings
past and future
of the day we met
from that first moment
to the end of time
memories upon memories
thoughts upon thoughts
January 29, 1982, 7:29PM PT
k
Posted in Creativity, Writing, tagged creative writing, modern poetry, poetry, vignettes on 04 Dec 2019| 3 Comments »
Today
I celebrate an age
I never thought I’d see
and reflect on those moments
when my river’s course
was shifted from its banks
by
arrivals
departures
separations
reunions
by decisions
to love
to hate
to forgive
to survive
Today,
I am the sum of
every decision
every event
every question
every answer
But that sum is fluid
affected by even
the smallest breeze
the least drop of rain
For even now
as these words pass
before your eyes
you join me
in my story
and change
the tally
of my life
Posted in Writing, tagged caravan, creative writing, immigration, modern poetry, poetry, short story, vignettes on 13 Aug 2019| 4 Comments »
August, without a doubt, is my least favorite month. It’s when the garden starts to pant and parch, spiders build massive obstacle courses in the yard, fruit goes from unripe green to fuzzy grey within minutes, and wildfire smoke descends to choke our skies, our lungs, our eyes.
And this August, it’s also when a “great” idea for a bit of topical poetry falls totally flat. (more…)
Posted in Creativity, Writing, tagged creative writing, modern poetry, poetry, short fiction, vignettes on 02 Jul 2019| Leave a Comment »
the blank page
sleeps before me
pale
bare
eternally patient
unaffected by my
anguish
the unwritten story
assails my brain
cajoling
shaming
begging for release
unmoved by my
anxiety
between them
my pen
my hand
my fear
my wall
Posted in Writing, tagged creative writing, modern poetry, poetry, short fiction, vignettes on 26 Mar 2019| 1 Comment »
at the cliff’s edge
the earth falls
through giddy space
to clammy sands
sunlight spears the steel wool clouds
and blazes from gunmetal curls
brined winds press me back
with death-cold hands
hot anger fills me
magma of rage
ready to spew forth
and boil the sea below
as I ponder the choice between
a hateful god
slayer of the young
and no god at all
Posted in Writing, tagged creative writing, memoir, modern poetry, poetry, stroke, TIA on 08 Jan 2019| Leave a Comment »
Last month
daily life was bland and insufficient
and my dreams
ranged far from home
smelled the sun-hot wind along Judean hills
tasted fruit sweet and warm from the Tuscan sun
shivered in the Celtic chill of dew-dazzled moors
Last week
a stroke threw veils across my eyes
and now my dreams
stay close to home
sit by the ticking, midnight embers
feel the gentle warmth of her hand
smile at the familiar curves of her face
I found this poem while cleaning out a storage closet. It was written circa 2011, following a clot that damaged my sight for a few months, an experience that I documented in my mini-memoir, Cryptogenesis. I don’t remember writing it, but I’m glad I tucked it away in our undercroft.
Posted in Writing, tagged creative writing, modern poetry, poetry, vignettes on 08 Dec 2018| Leave a Comment »
Today
I turned aside
from tragedies and trials
and sought instead
quiet marvels.
Today
I heard the winds of Mars
a thrum felt in the feet
a whistle filled with loneliness,
and heard Tesla coils singing
of sorrow and shame
in a house called
The Rising Sun.
Today
I saw a phoenix
rising in auroral hues
across Arctic skies,
and saw bridges of fire
Strombolian rage
spanning the Sicilian night.
Today
I felt the warmth of the sun
captured in the cat’s fur
as she slept by the window,
and then felt fingers go numb
as I worked outside where that same sun
provided light but no heat.
Today
I tasted watercress,
crisp and green and sharp and cold
fresh from my garden,
and tasted the salty age
of succulent panes
shaved from a joint that spent years
in a Spanish cave.
Today
the world holds more wonders
than we can possibly imagine
but they exist if we choose
to seek them.
k
Unraveling Time
Desert Wind
Ploughman's Son
Ploughman King
The Year the Cloud Fell
The Spirit of Thunder
Shadow of the Storm
The Cry of the Wind
Beneath a Wounded Sky
Cryptogenesis: A Memoir