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- A Prayer for Kurtis CummingsSay a prayer for old Kurtis Cummings: went out in his rowboat and got lost out at sea. Left his wife and two young children …
- New Year’s Eve 2004I may resolve to change my ways this year, exchange old habits for ones I’ve not tried. But there’s no point in much of that, …
- The Press Conference: descortNo outrage, just amused (perhaps its because I can’t stand the sound of his voice) It reminds me of a song by Robyn Hitchcock “He’s …
- A Prayer for Kurtis Cummings
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Author Archives: JRL
Don’t Drink the Water: anagram
Beyond those twisted, sneering smiles there must be miles of higher ground; why can’t we rise above the slime, insist upon a change of venue?
Why, with this crop of sour limes must we add sugar to the drink? Refuse the Kool-Aid; it is poison. Once you drink it, it’s all over. Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, anagram, higher ground, poetic forms, resistance, revolution
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The Blunderbuss Dragon: amphigory
Behold the dragon come alive:
not breathing fire, but spewing jive
and nonsense from its rubber lips,
and poison from its finger tips!
It cannot speak except to squawk,
and is too pendulous to walk,
except some strutting to and fro
in front of mirrors that it loves so. Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, allusion, amphigory, dragon, poetic forms, politics
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Curiouser and Curiouser
There’s a pet theory of mine that says if you’re nine years old, having reached the third year of elementary school, and you don’t love to read and have at least some middling skills at it, your life is going to be from that point forward much simpler, much less colorful, and to no small degree, much more difficult. Maybe it’s because I started reading at four, and by the time I was in first grade I was reading at a 6th grade level (apparently, the point on the yardstick at least 50% of Americans find themselves). Continue reading
Recrimination: alcaics
There really isn’t anything fantastic in how the world is currently eroding; it’s not a sudden, haunting nightmare
that cropped up silent out of nowhere.
The dream is over; everyone awakens and cries out, “What is happening, America?” but doesn’t want the blame for sleeping nor think they are the cause for crying. Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, alcaics, awakening, guilt, nightmare, poetic forms, recrimination
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The Sleeper: alba (aubade)
A tiny bit of light seeps in along the sofa’s edge;
into the folds of fuzzy blankets shadows flee,
as the first dappled warm begins its creep
against the surface of her sleeping face. Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, alba, aubade, daily poems, dawn, love, sleep, verse forms
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Just Past the Fire: ae freislighe
It should be more troubling:
a lack of common sense abounds,
and this thin gruel bubbling
is not fit food for the hounds. Continue reading
Posted in Lines
Tagged #BookofForms, ae freislighe, daily poems, darkness, desperation, hunger, Irish verse forms, verse forms
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It’s a Mad Mad World
I keep coming back to hatred, not only because there seems to be so much of it around right now – not simmering just under the surface like it has most of my life; no now it’s raised it’s ugly, … Continue reading