Poems
Where is peace of mind if you can't hear An angels song at four in the morning? The house asleep. The dog even annoyed You're making so much noise. Where is the poetry of youth? In mid-aged men. Kept quiet too long. In fathers in
America
Then I remember America's poets. We have this thing, America's poets do. Maya taught me that. We share it. She read Edgar Allan Poe and called him EAP (rhymes with creep). Maya told me, see? After the first line of hers I ever read, she was
Poems
thin blue chalk line up on black tar gone gray called concrete curbs set -not reset- since The Great Depression. where old weeds the same weeds new weeds grow sometimes, though sometimes a dandelion grows, too sometimes, though some time a kid picks it up -plucks it up- blows the
Poems
My favorite poem of mine. I don't swear often in verse. But as a poet's job is word choice, it's the right one. As This Poem This fucking world; it's so beautiful, But the stories we tell each other. -fuck- I wonder
Poems
For, My a Angel-Oh! Singed, while her house Went up in smoke. While her neighbors, -numbed and dutiful- -drummed the usual- Clutched their masks To cough in an elbow. In this suffocation: Low never knew Low, -And- Dark never knew Dark -And- Hell was a thing that chilled, While
Poems
Each day is a relay, a baton for tomorrow, For adding to the dream you dream you dream is you. Life is not a race against time, but a matter of the intention of each moment. One pixelated promise, not promised. There’s no way to hold a moment. What
Poems
Two deer in the street at half past 5 AM. A holy light around its face, The one locked to my eyes with his. Tall, a prince, a gift of Grace, A reminder of the awesome power of gentle kindness. I took a few pictures. Clear, good shots, but dishonest.
Poems
People stop to smell the flowers in gas masks.
Poetry
Todos estamos un poco locos.
Poems
Once in a blue moon the sky goes wonderful.
Poems
You’re as fragile as a sky, as constant as a cloud. So willing to hold a sunrise you know has no choice- But you let yourself fall from the setting. Why do you hold on when you know That’s what a sunrise does, sets? Why do you fall
Poems
There is A peace That doesn’t Need you. That’s Me. Not certain why, After all this time, I still want so bad To give the world So Much. Not certain if any thought, Anytime, at any place, Has ever been worth more than the air On a Wednesday