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
Posted in Creativity, Culture, Writing, tagged creative writing, modern poetry, poetry on 30 Oct 2018| Leave a Comment »
We keep it out
shunned
banished
beyond the electric glare
past heavy curtains
behind double-glazed panes
We fear
its cold
its dark
its unspoken secrets
I say
open the drapes
shut the lights
put flame to a candle’s wick
and let it in
Invite the night inside
forget its chill
forgive its inky mien
offer it a seat
and pour a wee dram
Enjoy its quiet
the stillness of its nature
and listen closely
as it whispers
of secrets
eager to be known
Let it in
—————-
k
Posted in Creativity, Writing, tagged creative writing, modern poetry, poetry, vignettes, Writing on 18 Oct 2018| Leave a Comment »
———
the cat and I eat twice a day
I serve her before myself
a rule I learned from a rabbi
and she finishes her meal
before I even sit down
covering the leftovers
with invisible leaves before
returning to the maintenance of her fur
or to toy with a dirty sock
panther-dragged from room to room
as she mutters disconsolate subtext
I used to think the rabbi’s rule was meant to instill
respect for our animals
a lesson in responsibility
empathy for those in our care
but now I understand
it’s merely to avoid
her judgmental eyes
———
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