Date Range
Date Range
Date Range
Friday, December 29, 2006. Glide in, ran and ran. Seven wide, tired smiles. My eyes began to drip. The rest, of course. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. How I Made A Friend.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006. Some of them only for weeks,. And years, enough so. I thought the whole world. And then when they left. What more can I say? For more poems about relationship, click on the links to the right. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing.
Friday, January 5, 2007. It happens i turn on cold. And the spray as it tickels my toes. Or waking on a hot night. And reaching for some body. This too Y E E S S S. And the grins on our faces.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006. LOVE AFFAIR WITH A VAMPIRE. I met a man in the daytime. I fell in love like the kids do. Then the sweet sun set gray. And the dusk crept in. And the air chilled at the end of the day. His fangs grew and blood drooled. And his smile went away. I had faith like the kids do though the birds were still. I loved him even as he drained my heart. And now each night with a sober grin. He feasts upon my soul.
After dreaming what I dream. I wake to my world. Outside my window the sparrows and starlings. Inside my mind is my daughter. Dawn who lives with her boyfriend. She is sick with an ear infection. It is too early to call or bring. I would like to bring her mint tea. My Andy and friends are sleeping. All over the living-room floor. All of them have been playing.
The Dog Died on a Daily Basis. The Dog Died on a Daily Basis. Then the next day it died again. Those were the days left for mourning. There was always a new death. After a while the baby started dying as well. It became a daily occurrence. Dog death and baby death. Then came the leaving of lovers. They came just to leave. They left you and then the next day. It was a kind of daily rape.
Friday, January 5, 2007. It happens i turn on cold. And the spray as it tickels my toes. Or waking on a hot night. And reaching for some body. This too Y E E S S S. And the grins on our faces.
A Poem to a girl named Jessica. Friday, February 4, 2011. In the womb all babies. We begin by counting their fingers. Now imagine a child born with limbs. That do not work and will not grow. She has neither fingers nor toes. Telling the mother about the virtues. Being that she is still so young. Yet the mother wavers because.