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- The Shallow Watera poem in blank verse Again, the conversation turned to fate; and as the group was interested, to chance, the lines of battle drawn between …
- Let Words EscapeRescind your tortured sentences; let words escape like AWOL soldiers past the fence, like sullen rocks that would grow wings like birds and fly out …
- Work on the SoulWork on the soul is busy work – it is unstructured, free-for-all work, meaning long stretches of silence, staring at ceilings, talking nonsense syllables to …
- The Shallow Water
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Tag Archives: summer
Meet me down in the delta
Meet me down in the delta where the hot summer swelter will melt all our blues away We’ll sit on the front porch swing not doing a damn thing but thinking up new games to play: things that don’t require … Continue reading
Lughnassad
Summer’s bent and turned to gray, his heat begins to wend; in these dog days of decline his smolder finds its end. Now the lad with darkened locks, his heart born full of ice, begins again to wax in strength … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged Lughnassad, Midsummer's Night, paganism, ritual, seasons, summer
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Season’s Crossroads
Wouldn’t know it from the weather, but the summer’s almost gone. Those lazy early days have faded, though the swelter lingers on; and the memory of the schoolyard has begun to slip away as if lessons barely ended prove you … Continue reading
Posted in Poems, Statements
Tagged Badfinger, perfection, Pete Ham, regrets, seasons, summer
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Midsummer’s Night
Again the axis ceases its slow spin, and slides across the rachet to reverse; the day and night become each other’s twin, and spheres align across the universe. In this time, when the veil between the worlds is thin and … Continue reading
The summer in New Orleans melts
The summer in New Orleans melts ambition from your bones; and inspires dreams of northern climes, of much more temperate zones where flowers last a day or two before they start to wilt, and the ground does not suck ravenous … Continue reading
A June night like a fat man at a bus stop
The fetid dark sits on the house like a fat man at the bus stop, sweat pooled on the plastic seat too narrow for his sturdy frame, and the night jasmine’s heavy scent assaults the senses, cloying sweet, like the … Continue reading
The Swarm
Like whirling dervishes they congregate around the bright lit porches and streetlamps, their bodies hurling like mad wax-winged clouds that seek where water meets with tender wood. Against their onslaught, darkened houses crouch low to the earth, hoping their bones … Continue reading