Category: Poems

Broken Belongings

Those things that send you into a downward spiral. Those things you despise. Those things you hide deep inside. Those things that tear at you. Those things that bite at your soul. Those things that crush you. Those things that you wish to kill. Those things will age […]

In Another Country

The emptiness of the Hawk’s heart Must allow it to soar higher. A silhouette cut from grey sky Glides above a Murky parking lot This cold morn.   A flock of gulls, Weighed down by The multitude, Flail and squawk without grace. The hawk floats above the noise. […]

Pieces of Me

Michelangelo chipped away Flecks of stone Like so many toenails discarded by a small choice. Razor thin or chunks. Each day his work was swept away, left in the street and covered by dust. The forgotten pieces of his work mauled and crushed by the everyday. He could […]

A Poem For Wetlands

  Mixed into two feet of decay, smells of death, and rot, and must. It tears at cells of life melting them into the muck.   This purgatorial zone eats life. Draws it in, turns it, rolls it into heat. Turning life, churning life, burning life out of […]

Chetzmoka Park

Taxing the limits of gravity, swinging ever higher, thrusting tiny shoes toward a misty ceiling.   Restrained only by thin links to an arc: Restrained from flight.   Brushing low, then elevating heavenward, propelled into weightlessness. A Dove flutters in them.   Working to flee from exalted mouths, […]

The Ambassador

A faded copy of Wallace Stevens’ Collected works sits on a windowsill Looking west across a churning ocean.   A murky, gray horizontal smudge meets Beyond vision and fades both north and south: The archaic world of the Pelican.   This ancient bird dives along the shoreline Blending […]

The Siesta

Framed and finished A once blank canvas was Pulled tight, Stretched and Prepared. Vincent Dabbed color on this empty Space, Mixing yellow swirls Around two napping Field workers dreaming Of skies as blue as Vincent’s. Where workers rest Beneath golden haystacks Undisturbed by the Sweating grunting world.

Easter in Palestine

The boys searched the scorched ground For bits of a new martyr. Fresh scraps mixed with ancient dirt Shrouding their task. Shouting to friends, Gathering to examine their found treasures. Easter this year was cold. The northern wind blew sand and rain. The children were not deterred. They […]