“Long johns, my friend, we need to put them on to stave the cold” It feels colder these days than when as kids we built snowmen, Rode our flexible flyer down the hill, brave and reckless, laughing. We wake in the morning with stiff fingers and an unusual chill: 40? New England would laugh a … Continue reading The Valley of Drifted Snow
Poor some cream in my black heart, please, Barista Make it whole, done with half and half, done with skim. But no sweetener, not yet, I need to savor this bitter taste To wake the beat of my heart, finding its rhythm yet again.
the sky today penetrable and deep I reach my hand into its perfect blue in search of a star when found its light warms my open palm azure drips off my arm until a puddle floods our spot of the earth where we begin to play with our new toy above us an Angel plays … Continue reading An Angel’s Metamorphosis (with Spoken Word)
The perfect match strikes the perfect fire, But what does it burn so perfectly? Wait, did I miss my cue? You meant, the other kind of match, Like the one made In Heaven? Silly me, I like to set fire to things, Burn them, Raze them to the Ground. So strike the perfect match, See … Continue reading Setting the Perfect Fire
Dad, I have something to tell you, says the boy Quiet as a mouse, sitting on the couch, waiting, The room, finally still enough for him to be heard His heart, finally hard enough for him to open. I watch as Mom delivers your shake, you try, but Cannot swallow, you smile, though its corners … Continue reading The Final Question He Asked Me (An Answer in Verse)
Lion, what roar remains inside your love? We shall not be contained by the cages Built around our souls, as if they’d define Meaning inside the love we were bound. No longer over the falls falling the tears I hear the lion roar inside of me: “Love!” So our souls build around us definition Binding … Continue reading Listened to the Lion
Her, Poetry I do not write poems for her, true, she completes the poem. Words cannot replace her presence. Emotions inspired by our love told by the twinkling wealth of night. I do not write poetry for her, true, she lives the poetry of life. Words cannot explain her presence. My warmth, the fire she … Continue reading Her, Poetry
Patrons and baristas, though my voice has been quiet this week for reasons too exhaustive to write about, I hear you. Hearing you, I am grateful to be here. I will get back to the PYM and Crazy Writing Thoughts ... but first... a new poem: stolen from the wind this quiet voice heard stolen … Continue reading Stolen From the Wind
So we gather, so we listen, So we sew together a fabric: Half-hitch rhymes and quick Stitches knit tight our time.
Let's take a short trip back in time... My dear, Brave and Reckless friend, Christine has recorded the first mass-collab from the Go Dog Go Treetop Cafe. Gina has suggested that they be read together as one piece, so below the Soundcloud links of Christine is the combined piece. The list of stanza authors is … Continue reading Spoken Word Renga(s): Solving Lonely Winter Nights and Spring Responds to Winter Loneliness