poetry
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The Century Sailing on the Backs of Centuries
You see the ship upon the sea that sinks, A forsaken ship, following the wind,a creaking hulk of artifacts all boundtogether by the living memoriesof the sun-burnt sailors, who scrape the hullfor salt and seaweed, flotsam, jetsam, fish,and all necessities of life they findin transit, crossing each meridianand parallel that lines a drop of bluesuspended Continue reading
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Pure Melody
An underrated pleasure is having a few hours to yourself at home on a sunny day, in which you discover the presence of mind to do nothing except lie on the couch and listen to piano music. You may fantasize about your own fingers possessing the training and dexterity to produce intricate chords and arpeggios Continue reading
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Three poems about revolutions
I knew that I had nothing left to lose,when on the screen I saw utopiawith all improbable elementspatiently explained by smiling scientists,and reflected on my experienceof broken promises and glass,of clockwise twisting screwssinking into splintering particle board,of ignorance without sufficient adjective,and found it my considered opinionthat demanding nothing less was all my heart could stand. Continue reading
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The Two of Them
Having set the scene for them,removed the obstacles that stymie fleshand freed them from constraints of time,having laid my pen aside, I wonder, did they find what they were seeking,what I set them after?Come the morning, will I find themstill together,will the hours that passed have been relief,as beautiful in retrospect, in day as night?Will Continue reading
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The Philosopher’s Skull
Plato said it once, or might have saidwe wake in darkness, born as if some wholebone were brusquely dropped on an old floor,with empty holes for eyes to watch the lightsgavotting on the wall — he may have meantit otherwise, I can’t be sure, I haven’tread the scrolls he scribbled epsilonsand sigmas on, but under Continue reading
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The Small Season
Consider the following Christmas lines (emphasis added): When what to my wondering eyes did appear,But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer, With a little old driver so lively and quick,I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick. I cannot be the only person who was ever struck by these lines in the Continue reading
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History’s Plague
I speak of the plague, the pale, terrible plague,and surely you know the one of which I speak – the one you remember, the one from the history booksand the old tale of the dreadful red masquerade,the one with the frogs, the frightful angel of deathwho came on the backs of creeping rats and the Continue reading
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From the Files of the Canard Hearsay
The Ancient StageHis mark has faded from the Earth’s account of history, of memory he sangon ancient stages, wood the worse for wear but polished clean, his mark has fadedfrom the memory of generations.The hills that held an ancient stage subsided in the storm, the banners ran like gullsacross the ragged waves, a rustic song Continue reading
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Bonnie and Sherbert, Forever
My precious little ones, you flew – further than you knew you couldand more than you could ever know,much more than any one could knowwho never held you in their hands.Best of all, you flew together -now at last, together you may restand watch the sun with one another,side by side, in love secure,forever reaching Continue reading
Ink Tea Stone Leaf 