It’s really not fair to give this book a star rating, because John B. Lyttle’s 85-page memoir is clearly not intended as a deep personal narrative but a short informal memory of one man’s experience in a major world event. It’s not meant for an audience interested in historical detail so much as for family, friends Read More …
Category: Uncategorized
Pocket Detritus
(From my novel “Within the Bosom,” as envisioned by “narrator” Janis Elizabeth Samson, writing about an afternoon in her father’s memory.) Who, really, can guess what a 75-year-old man will find when he spreads his memories out on the kitchen counter and shuffles them with his wrinkled fingers? First kiss, surely. Prom night? Maybe. The Read More …
The Rage
(From the novel “Within the Bosom,” as envisioned by “narrator” Janis Elizabeth Samson, writing about a dispute with her mother.) Oh, God, the rage. Mornings of hoarfrost. Silent, desolate sighs in icy gulps, a howling wind behind the eyes. Oh, God, the rage. Fire-breathing afternoons. A long, slim, slithering tongue of flame, consumed and all-consuming. Read More …
Sonnet for the Irish
(From my novel “Within the Bosom,” as envisioned by “narrator” Janis Elizabeth Samson, writing about her parents’ love affair.) Love songs write themselves deep where shallow Time’s Intent distorts the light, so all that once Was false bows to request of Truth a dance. Then black washes to red, such minor crimes, And broken hearts Read More …
Hero? Goat? Elephant? Often, it takes time to know for sure
Read it in the Daily Herald If you’re trying to assess news stories involving, say, Charles Joseph Gliniewicz, Patrick Kane or Robert Breuder ‐‐ or, for that matter, the political candidacies of Ben Carson, Hillary Clinton, Donald Trump or any of the other dozen and a half people running for president, the newspaper and other Read More …
Springsteen’s Challenging Christianity
I was listening to Bruce Springsteen’s “Land of Hopes and Dreams” yesterday while raking leaves, and I realized that it may be my favorite of his many, many great songs. Structurally, I’ve considered “Jungleland” my hands-down favorite ever since that first delicious solitary night in a Fulton farmhouse when, discovering Springsteen for the first time, Read More …
Hapless Henry Helper
Henry’s my friend. He likes to help All of the people he knows. He tells their bad points and gives them stuff To get rid of the spots on their clothes. He gave a truck driver a bottle of Scope — I’ll never forget the day. The man said, “I like you. You’ve got guts.” Then punched Read More …
The Days of the Week
The days of the week are monotonous things If you stop to think about them. Yet, however dull they all may seem, We just can’t live without them. Friday, let’s start with just be be different, Is the same every week. You get your pay and, zoom, it’s spent Along with the happiness you seek. Saturday Read More …
This World
Fantasy is the world for me When I get troubled with reality. When there’s no car for me to drive, I hop on a goose and away I fly Into the world of impossible dreams, Where everything always works out, it seems. When enemies tease, I become Hercules And make them all just drop to Read More …
Twenty-Three Skidoo
One night while walking in the woods Watching the fireflies flying, I heard the most unhuman screech; As if someone for help were crying. I looked to my left and I looked to my right, But nothing there could I see. And then a voice from out of the night: “Over here, my friend, look Read More …