Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Sunday, September 27, 2020

Tongue In Cheek, The Poet Addresses His Other Self


Janus, so many poems


I know you know 

It would take me two 

Lifetimes to share 

Them all with you— 


So forgive me 

If I end up choosing 

Only the choicest few— 


On the other hand, I’m sure 

It’ll come as no surprise 

They’re all about 


My reluctance to chew 

And spit out—what else?— 


A most vexing attachment

To a double-faced you. 






Wednesday, September 23, 2020

Seizing The Day (Phoenix In Distress)


Disoriented by shining


Myriad stars, rise from

Under such dizzying array

To the occasion:


Do not

Wait to see some fabled

Celestial body falling


To make a wish you

Hope complements

This very day, burn it


To ashes straightaway.




Friday, September 18, 2020

The First And Last Time I Knew I Wanted To Be A Poet

 “At ease disease, there’s a fungus among us.” 

---childhood taunt of the 1950s in the USA



It must have been when I was still—

As they say—wet behind the ears and thought


It was something I could do every day

And still look at myself


In the mirror without turning away, how

Could I know then


What I sense at last is true now?

Poetry remains


A lingering disease

That once takes root


In the budding brain,

Never knows well


Enough to stop sprouting

Wings and dares


Fly away.



Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...