Rain, the more Rain - Jan. 31, 2023
yuuuuuuck but when the first ray of sun breaks through everything glistens the first bird song so cheerful and fresh the earth’s...
yuuuuuuck but when the first ray of sun breaks through everything glistens the first bird song so cheerful and fresh the earth’s...
not only do I endlessly scavenge for poetry subjects to scoop up and write about but from another appendage of my brain I’m crafting the...
how comforting the visit of rain on a sleepless night the finger-drumming of drops on the roof of my wakefulness a cold and lonely...
they tell me you shouldn’t write a sad poem while you’re still drowning in sorrow that it will be too dark too inescapable and sink...
I’ve got to write a poem about white hair and wrinkles wearing glasses pushing walkers pulling saggy backs coming upon one of them is...
for the pop of the Monday morning fire we both huddle around one sick and sofa bound the other feeding flames that twist orange in...
one cookie was L-shaped as if it had taken a wrong turn on its way to the cookie sheet another looked like a drunk had made it as round...
when men bake when men clean when men shop and change diapers would all be poems that would have changed over the history of man but not...
My friend Maureen says there was an earthquake I think it was my pen trembling after a superlative lyrical creation either way we both...
before it begins voices sift between the seated like forest sounds at night a pair of too loud laughs cuts through the mumble torsos...
will a heart surgeon at a party keep an audience if he crows about the amazing details of the double-chambered heartbeat? or would an...
he doesn’t read them he’s in them smells them hears and feels them lives them the way he chokes up with the sailor’s goodbye kiss...
it’s a much brighter sun that rises now finds cracks in clouds prisms the rain is it the years that awakened it? each day having its...
I thought it was the morning sun knifing golden through some drowsy trees nice try I thought cold and still quite dark a new moon had...
I think every poet should host parties of odd fellows introduce adverbs to verbs that have never spoken before adjectives to nouns that...
younger people love describing in poetry all the cool things about riding around in that brand-new yacht called love then turn to...
scribbled and dog-eared to death I leaf through it tiny memories pinned to exact points in time I scroll twelve months in 45 seconds...
rain on the pond sure looks like a happy reunion each drop that hits the water rebounds with a sparkling leap so many excited to be back...
isn’t the nature of happiness to lure you forward inward upward to a time and space more joyous than you are now and with just one or...
asking for it rain can be the uncle you asked over for coffee and stayed for two days