“This is it!
We’re done.”
Morning shadows
Got the Sun
Edges browning
still green leaves
“Autumn’s coming”
Says, the trees.
Categories
We’re Done
Category: American Place
These are poems that aim at reflecting something uniquely American in experience. Be it a place. Or a person or an experience. It had to happen somewhere to become something.
Categories
Poets Bureau
The poet stands sentinel, memory of the City.
I am needed in the streets. Town crier. Breaking Muse. Calling forth the words of this generation. MindScribe. Writing into the minds of the people; making them remember to be free.
We must compose a new poetry.
Democratic verses
aspiring towards
our words in
common.
Categories
Speaker for the Dead
We call for a new poetry!
We call for a new eulogy!
We call forth the Speaker for the Dead.
He will understand the lost as only the Ender of
Worlds can begin to grasp. He will tell us who they
Were, where They stood. You do not know nor could.
They never wrote it down for you. Never heard them say.
Admirer, lover, blinded still,
your pining overwhelming, what was real.
Their stories told without the Makar’s mark.
Stripped away, our own projections of glories old
And say the truth, no matter how dark.
The funeral can no longer be your poetic elegy.
It must be a poem of record telling the life of the
One who will be remembered beyond the grave.
Their stories a collection of Cities and States.
Categories
Dead Horse
The Skull
from The Mountains
Bullet Hole
between the eyes
Whole body
puzzle of bones
Bone broken
on winter’s pass
Burden taken
under human foot
Friend fallen
Last farewell
Friends taken
to the woods
Too early
for human foot
Skull‘s burden
Taken home
To rest
Categories
It speaks to you
I went to buy a book of poems
Hearts, identities, wants, failures
Scattered across pages, books, shelves of books, shelves of
poetic thrashings
Awaking from the same bad dream, writing the same bad poetry
that releases your free will to subjugation and lies
dormant in the pithy pulp, poet after poet
screaming unto no one, until
“I’ll take this one”
Categories
Barber Shop Blind
Lenses down
Sight bubbles
Faceless forms
Busy cutting
Head vibrates
Blur tremors
Walls reflect
What I cannot see
Busy people
“Looking good”
Cell stacks
Aged clippings
Fall slowly
Swept away
Cheerful chatter
Finishing with a new me
Categories
Forged
Without Constraint there is only Chaos,
Without Chaos there can be no Creation.
In between Leaders are forged by the pressure.
Wisdom is knowing the Fire from the Anvil.
Leadership is wielding the Hammer without vanquishing the Flame.