in a salt marsh in a lush gorge against a glacier * * * at sunrise twelve horses set out far below a totem pole at sunrise in a salt marsh horses set out below a totem pole of twelve waterfowl trumpeting at sunrise, yes, twelve horses set out far below waterfowl in a […]
I often delight in a phrase or term that takes on a life of its own, apart from a particular content or meaning. The poet Jack Spicer, drawing on his training as a linguist, was a master at this.
Overhearing one conversation recently, my mind’s eye took the Black Joker who met the Red Herrings on a Non-Tour in a much different direction. My choir buddies, Mike and Kate, knew who they were talking about, and where. It was all about Morris dancing. For me, though, it was pure magic on its own.
Words can, after all, exist in their own sound and space. How short can a poem be, anyway? I have a few that weigh in at one word apiece, while two or three words can make for a nice verbal dance.
The title of my newest poetry collection, Noble Blue Liberty, is one of those. Years ago, I warned the mother of three children I’d run with her lofty impression, and I have. Actually, the title could stand as a poem all its own.
I have similar feelings about some of my other recent releases.
waging peace restores harmony uncovers common values where only conflicts and differences in appearance surface steps outside dominant viewpoints teaches children alternatives to consumerism which is self-centered at its core engenders instead the practice of doing good work reveals to us the unfavorable implications “God bless America” extends to the rest of the world O […]
slugs thrive, and I’m back in Seattle, except that here, broccoli, cucumbers, zucchini, and peppers arrive in waves and our woodworker-electrician and I tackle the barn renovation in earnest still, in a few breaks, I cross the line into Maine sometimes with my Lady of Children’s Television leaping rapturously in big surf and sometimes with […]
a woman in an improbable hoop skirt and headscarf lights a wall of candles salmon-colored bands on a wall, plus a solar diagram and an Elizabethan woman black chair, as two birds flying in opposite directions as she reads her book in a balloon, the fog handbag and coffee New York Poem copyright 2016 by […]
1 between sunset and sunrise the ocean returns to desolate obsidian of her dark depths in the character at best, stars above strand of shoreline, depending maybe the moon with her sea-legs or repeated slapping 2 breakers arrive as a single point of reflected white opening out evenly in a line on either side a […]
Resting on the park bench, she complained she couldn’t keep pace with her children. When the seven-year-old pest returned, demanding, “Ma, give me money” for a cola, she complied, thinking it love. ~*~ She couldn’t touch her toes. ~*~ Her legs pushed away from each other, yet in her cotton dress, unexpectedly as she swatted […]