Poetry

Sometimes the Messenger Deserves Killing

By on Oct 30, 2020 in Featured, Humor, Poetry | 0 comments

Once you start stabbing people who deserve it, where do you stop? So many worthy candidates. Macbeth’s problem. At least he had a wife to blame. There are always going to be witches, cackling over cauldrons, to set you thinking, woods to get lost in mid-life, battles to come back from with your mind on chores left undone back at the castle, scores to settle, slights to avenge. The moat needs draining, the murder holes are low on oil, and that distant relative chained to the dungeon wall has a dentist’s appointment. No need to question where these messages come from, this clarity that...

Read More

Eighth Century Horse on Leaf of Handscroll

By on Oct 25, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

Tiny threads of rein and bridle look as if added in a later world to arrest his bucking head, to calm his terror-filled eye, white-haloed. He is the very picture of fear and is tethered to a pole so his four feet, levitated for flight, are frozen in time. Could I know what frightens him if this print were more than detail, if the characters of black brush stroke and red pictorial stamps were of my time and language? The story reflected in his eye is mine, though, speaks that moment when all is not as we long held.

Read More

On Gary Hume’s “The Whole World” (2011)

By on Oct 18, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

Usually I prefer the image to go off the edges of the panel, for it to be larger than the space I can capture it in. - Gary Hume The brain is a soaked cabbage, its iters ancient mazes beneath new gloss of orbits gentle in dark magenta space. Why are this world’s edges so close? Below, nothing else interrupts; we nearly fall off the old thought into color, a race of slaw slowly watching its own wrinkles age, age into forever’s...

Read More

You squint the way one eye still aches

By on Oct 11, 2020 in Poetry | Comments Off

You squint the way one eye still aches was shaped by rising water as it flattens out in the silence that wants you to make good without asking why or what for –it’s how moonlight works, half disguised as tears to soften the ground half as a sea that long ago left all these bottom stones uncovered as the mist where their breath used to be –somebody owes them all something though you come by to pay down one that still has its arms around you is pulling you closer to shore by wiping the foam from your lips –you darken the Earth to get a better look and with child-like...

Read More

Walter, Pierre, Tim, Howard

By on Oct 11, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

We had a good rain all night, their names crashing down from the past. Thirty years later from up here in this bedroom window, I see across the wide lawn where everything in these gardens goes on at such a fast pace… the lilacs, peonies, roses. The new delight, purple phlox blooming late in the cool mountain air. For some time now I’ve not spoken their names, young men who hungered for the world they were losing, and what in their leaving, they took. They died without funerals. We gave away their clothes to Goodwill, all of them we outlived. At the time did not know how much we...

Read More

Bearing Loss

By on Oct 11, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

What kindling love is this that sanctifies the earth with memories proliferating like the grave turning of a second birth? What enterprising arms disseminate their charms like seeds on fallow fields to function as a lavish yield for autumn’s harvest? Suspended on such tensile roots, they bring forth fruits which thrive on sappy juices of their germinating tree – if just to nurture offshoots for posterity. But what use cultivating heartbreak’s fertile soil, that promises abundance from such husbandry? Tears scarcely save the desiccated oak, nor does grief breathe life into a...

Read More