Love Poems are a Dime a Dozen

i write this blind no experience no background. write without the benefit of stanza verse or prozac. i write to you: a thousand words of poetic translation ultimate frustration. without bending or melting myself into color sound or feeling. without hiding behind pretty metaphors or white and glossy symbols. this is not a poem of…

My Life as an Open Book

I mentioned in a comment recently that being home means confronting the ghosts in the floor boards. Along with the memories comes the monsters in the closets and the poltergeist in the pipes. None of those hit home with a more resounding thwack to the temple than going through a musty box pulled from the…

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (A Poem for Parents)

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Oh no, wait!  Don’t be silly!  Of course there was Mother wrapping one gift, then two, then wait, there’s another. There were piles on tables and piles on chairs Some wrapped like patchwork, others with care….

I Don’t Know Why She Swallowed The Fly

What with the start of school and family visitors and enjoying a Danish Indian summer (forget Winterfell, Danish winter is coming….), I haven’t had time to sit down and write anything new in a while.  There are plenty of ideas on the back burner, plenty of sentences simmering away, a few buns of thought in…