Poetry

Green Sonnets

By on Jul 23, 2017 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

Only green sonnets from this pen, beginning words from failure’s half-formed tongue, in a struggle to create, to sing within the time one’s finest words are sung. Not these letters that score the page, that stumble through and fumble back, that play this mindless game in quiet rage, not these, those golden words I lack. Maybe once, all lines had fallen true, somehow found their blistered place, only glimpsed a glimmer of that...

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Erase

By on Jul 23, 2017 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

Erase me.  Start with m.  Then e So now there’s no mental Ntal  Cross out you.   y  o  u My younger days would collapse like a balloon th………….  Delete us.  You understand now.  Firstly u… then s Now I only feel...

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Rhyme #1: ‘Its use is not a burden’

By on Jul 23, 2017 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

Its use is not a burden but a clue There’s something after it, or me, or you. Rhyme can also make hot arguments Hop along, less hot, or harsh, or sad; Or, bind some disparate thoughts, as if they had A common quality of resonance. Young boys may have their soldiers, girls their dolls, But plastic playmates make for lonely souls; Twins have each other, though, and the delight Of tickling each other’s feet all night, Even the...

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Last Days of Uncle Arnold (a poem series)

By on Jul 16, 2017 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

  I see you perched on a  Nebraska hay bale   communing with your delirium while all around   the rolling Sand Hills gently beckon to one  whose life  was lived among them.       these Sand Hills, this ranch, home for far-journeying winds,  sandhill cranes and willful, way- ward nieces and nephews       Nebraska hayfield brother, cousins, uncle and grandma’s...

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The Sky is Bursting with Rainlight

By on Jul 16, 2017 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

  for Angela Humphreys Staley 1965-2016 With sunset comes rain and the sky glows with it. The sky is bursting with rainlight, it sweeps the court of people. Even the giant moths circling the overhead lights hang it up for the night. And for a while we stand together against the fence, our fingers hanging from memories like hooks. The moon closes what the sun begins. On the empty court, puddles of moon light and tell me Angela...

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Off the Road to Hana

By on Jul 16, 2017 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

  for Angela Humphreys Staley 1965-2016 I can keep you in perfect peace as you stay close to Me underlined in her bible, lightly the word funeral in the margin. She was headed all the way back to the initial breath like a bubble in reverse. My brother called to say he unplugged her life support. I blew some sad, small words into the phone and was barfing in the yellow grass before I hung up. A month later in Hawaii they stood by...

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