For Patty I, insufficient, like the world which strains to share your warmth to contain the heat of your spirit (which gives you your strongness), love, incalculable, like the undulating flame that lifts and dances mirthfully in the winds of your passion, creativity and warmth, you, everlasting, like the stalwart soul steering always Read More …
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Bold Love
I would not be so bold to paint my love As if there could a palette infinite Be, or colors bright, rich or deep enough To something more than base approximate. Nor could I stoop to notes or song or phrase Or sculpture, all just variants of sand That marks with airborne brush strokes sifted Read More …
Drowning
Cliché or no, I drowning, swim fight for breath drowning ache drowning swim drowning and dream of land and boats so many boats all mine and free breath sweet and lungs so full drowning swim on drowning swim on ache swim dream drowning but not drowned yet.
Britney’s Belly
I want to touch Britney’s belly. I do. And trace the curve of her hips. I have no interest in her voice; My ears tilt elsewhere given the choice. But, ah, just with light fingertips I want to touch Britney’s belly. I do. I want to touch Britney’s belly. Don’t you? — Circa Read More …
A Different Air
(Apologies to Hermann Hesse) “Come out now, sweet love, and play. Let us laugh away the day.” “No, my love, I cannot come. Within my breast my joy’s entombed.” “Pleasure surely isn’t dead. Come and lie with me in bed.” “My repose lives within me. The soul gives immortality. Truth and honor can I find Read More …
What Flickers Now
A door swings open, Here I stand, Gray face behind flowers, Candy in hand. As you look at me, What do you see? Does the simmering light I’ve buried glow? Or can’t it penetrate the lead? Head bowed, I’m full Aware that dull Is the sheen on the fear-thicked coat I show. Could you Read More …
Winter’s gloaming
In the quiet of a room alone wrapped in a winter’s gloaming. I stare at yellow legal pad and fight a mental roaming. I’ve a song, this song, to sing. I at last an embryo stretch arms, legs, toes and fingers And find the shell’s sides once so close on far horizons linger. Such Read More …
The Ballad of the Unskilled Laborer
As I walk these long and lonely tracks, The boxcars of my mind keep takin’ me back To the days when I was wont to be free And a tramp was what I decided to be. I decided I would travel far, So I hopped the nearest empty boxcar With glorious visions in my mind Read More …
A Report Card on My Stories
If you’re thinking about reading any of my short stories or purchasing one of my books on Amazon.com, here’s something you might find useful: my own assessment of the merits of individual works, graded from A through F, where A++ would be Blood Meridian or The Evening Redness in the West by Cormac McCarthy or The Old Man and the Read More …
Spring primaries will be critical; don’t miss them
READ COLUMN AT DAILYHERALD.COMSo much attention is being devoted to the race for president in 2016, you might be forgiven if you overlooked the fact that come March 15, you’ll also be selecting candidates for races much closer to home.We haven’t.And political special interests haven’t either. On many levels, the spring primary ‐‐ in which Read More …