Category Archives: Arts, Poetry and Music

NaPoWriNo Day 6: Possibilities in my canoe

If my solo canoe has just the right balance

and weight to lean close balance

reach blade push deep dip curl

balance, not tip

If waves come straight on

Straight on, spray, glitter cut, slide through

cut, not side wallow, slosh, lurch, tip

If weeds wave deep, copper brown, distant

distant deep, not squeaking, wrapping, tangling

deep, dancing, waving on

If current is slow, unambiguous, settled

staid, not shifting, tidal, whirling, pushing


If my arms, my wrists are strong

keen, clean, powerful, not trembling,

aching, burning, faltering

not faltering

not faltering


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Real estate of being

Real estate of being

What is property, that I could have a deed for it,


A few square (cubic?) miles of minerals,

just like what’s left of you

in weighty ashes

to be scattered over this property,

over the milestones of our years after you.

With a skin of organic matter,

captured from the air with the power of the sun

and steaming away again in a great cycle,

burning, as you did in your furnace.

It is only numbered coordinates,

vertices on a polygon,

perched on graveled turf sliding downhill

on drifting crust of a continental island

on this spinning ball hurtling through nothing

in a universe expanding.


And each atom of each mineral,

Of every carbohydrate and amino acid polymer

is made, we are told,

of mostly nothing

or, more or less precisely,

force fields.

So, I force myself on these fields

and name them mine.

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Posted by on February 4, 2019 in Arts, Poetry and Music, My poems


A poem that asks not answers

How can we know the past?
By its tailings, lying by the hole?
Do seasons really come again??
Only higher up, burying the one before

Is it worth saving this bit of plastic by filling it with ink?
I could carry it everywhere
and those I left behind would not know
I had ever been there.

Is this the end of lovely?
It is the universal force, and we
wish the stars above were nearer
to overcome it.

Why does the freeway sound rise in the damp
Riding on the vapor all the way to my window?
What is the hissing in my ears?
Either blood, or memories smashing together.

Why do visitors wait for me to come
to a sound I have not heard?
This one I will bring indoors
to last until I die.

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Posted by on November 5, 2018 in Arts, Poetry and Music, My poems




I am over you now.
It was dark.


This Dream

I do not claim to have developed an airtight business plan

for this dream.

It was a dream, and it came from my root

although up in the air, before you, it has proved to be so fragile.

It wanted nourishment, encouragement,

A chance to live and grow.


I see now I should be thankful for those strong blasts of hot air,

If they have strengthened stems,

the lack of light, at first, that made it reach higher,

and your crap, that turned out to be

nourishing, after all.

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Posted by on June 29, 2018 in Arts, Poetry and Music, My poems


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Hang in there

Get there.
Just get there, she said.
Any adequate means of transportation will do.
The wind might blow though the windshield, bugs splatter,
and wheels rattle,
you might have to swerve to miss a deer,
then run over a possum.

But if you get there,
Intact, together,
You can have the picnic.
Take out the platitudes, piled high,
Say, it was all meant to be,
in retrospect.
Footsteps in the sand.

Or, will it be pedal to the metal
and three sheets to the wind?

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Posted by on January 27, 2018 in Arts, Poetry and Music



Poem for my crotchety neighbor

This time I should call her first,
To pre-empt her from texting me with the usual
“Turn down the racket! What’s wrong with you people?
You don’t live on twenty acres!”
I would say to her, “Pam, would you pah-lease
get those crows in your yard to cut out that racket at seven in the morning?
and your cypress is shedding all over our woodpile.
What do you think this is, a public park?”

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Posted by on November 7, 2017 in Arts, Poetry and Music