Poetry

Ahab’s Crew

By on Dec 27, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

  — Boarding School, 1980 October flares in western PA. In rumpled uniforms boys mock each other around the oak table, two chairs lean daringly on back legs. The schoolmaster shows up late on black mornings, the beret tipped wide on his high forehead and a tweed jacket dangling from his hunched shoulder. Twice he clears his throat, a voice more trusted than their own fathers, before reading out loud from Moby Dick. Thin smoke rises from the hot ember at his fingertips. Half-listening, they slouch with their hair hurling round their heads, look up at his moving lips, pausing...

Read More

Injured Shadow (v3)

By on Nov 16, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

In nakedness of life moves this male shadow worn out dark clothes, ill fitted in distress, holes in his socks, stretches, shows up in your small neighborhood, embarrassed, walks pastime naked with a limb in open landscape space— damn those worn out black stockings. He bends down prays for dawn, bright sun.   Hear Michael reading his own...

Read More

Wildflowering

By on Nov 15, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

Pock-marked—yet her face is perfection, (or close enough for the reach of praise) each enlarged pore, pit a star in the banner weaving across sleek cheeks below the hunter eyes that pay no serious attention to past struggles with oil, hormones, and stress, but stake the opposing orbs that must notice the pinprick fields, blooms, before caught above, beyond the necessary...

Read More

Who I Wanted to Be

By on Nov 15, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

Memory arises from a puckered, bent photo of that day. My cousin with her rich, sophisticated family enter our shack, the abomination of my stifled life. We do not have enough chairs. Children are left to stand or crouch near the screen door. I peek through a flimsy curtain hanging as a door to my tiny room, large enough for only a bunk and a box for my folded clothes. My cousin is eighteen. She wears a light blue linen dress with a peter pan collar, ankle socks and saddle shoes. She twists the ringlets at her shoulder. Her lavender scent reaches me as if from another world where I...

Read More

Whether or Not

By on Nov 8, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

The morning thrush and lark, which greet the dawn or make it, sing no matter who is there to hear. When that resilience is gone and nature herself starts to disappear another Coming will be under way where souls of things and beings shall impart new traits to old forms to attend the day- song; air shall grow ears; soil, assume a heart; tongues, noses, fingertips and eyes shall be affixed to blades, leaves, lakes, florescences, clouds, mist: that all, in all humility, shall listen, taste, feel, savor all that is and its anthem, the morning call of birds, long after you and I are gone, and...

Read More

These cool green hills

By on Nov 8, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | 1 comment

  Text only: these cool green hills the morning’s sunlit trees far journeys complete

Read More