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Tribute to J. D. Salinger - WHY?
WHY ?`The Catcher In The Rye`caught Mark Chapmans eye.Pulled from death in ’77.Thought the plan was hatched in heaven.He read the book, and then could see,the shape of his own destiny.But he didn’t read through the childs eye,and he answered the callof the Black Bishops cry.He felt the guilt, and...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~What are we ? I hear you cry,as you see another die.Why do we fight ?Why do we hate ?Do we have the answer ?Is it all too late ?If you recognise these thoughts as yours.Do you run and hide behind closed doors ?The truth is there,as it should be.As...
The Song of LifeThe Song of Life plays gentlyin the background of our mind.It has the chord, the message tooto make life great, for me and you.So soft that we don't hear a sound.The Song of Life is so profound.The 'lost chord' many call it,and they search both high...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~It's Just An Illusion BabyIt's just an illusion baby,I thought you knew.It's just an illusion baby,This World so blue.The stars in the sky.The air we breath too.It's just an illusion baby.I thought you knew.Our brain is just the hard-drive,of a miniscule computer.So small and so invisible,I thought you knew.Every vision...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Fell.Sometimes dark, sometimes blue,the purple haze envelopes you.Wraps you with it's swaddling skinnot letting other souls slip in.A pumping fluiditious sound,of a heart-beat that is so profound.Protects and feeds you love each day,until it's time to make your way.Out into this world so cruel,you enter more precious than any...
----------------------------------------Tin Can Dan.Tin Can Danwas a funny little Man.He had a stoop when he walked,,spat and dribbled when he talked.He was out in the morning,in the noon, the eve and night.In the pitch-black you’d see Danwith his little pen flashlight.Searching through the bins,through the gutters too.Searching out those tin-cansthat were...
the dust congress
the early morning sunriseputs you back to sleepeveryone is angryin way too deepAri Marcopoulos, still from 'Detroit'Self-Portrait: Black’s Law Dictionary -- by Beth Woodcomefor Megan HehirAn elephant moth, devoted to eating, a tender of meat, a compulsive, a meek, something that should have been smaller. Did I do...
can you treat it like an oil wellwhen it's underground and out of sightPavement's first show in ten years!!!* Pavement have played their first show in over a decade, taking to the stage at Auckland Town Hall, New Zealand tonight (March 1).The band – who have...
buttons or donutsthese are my thoughtscecily brown, the quarrel, 2004* From: Modern Times, Modern Places, Knopf, 1998 by Peter Conrad:"The heroic daring of [the new] century lay in its conviction of absolute, unprecedented novelty. This is what the exhilarating notion of modernity...
Quite some time ago when I was younger Maybe eight or nine A friend of mine had nearly met his Death before his timeIrving Penn, After Dinner Games, 1947* NY Magazine interviews Shaq regarding the art exhibit he recently curated. excerpt:Q: How did you make your...
If we’re on delancey steet at nightIn the after train ride quietBarking dogs by highgate pondSomething’s here but something’s goneSaul Leiter, Paterson, 1952In My Youth I Was a Tireless Dancer -- by Edward Dorn But now I passgraveyards in a car.The dead lie,unsuperstitiously,with their feet toward me--please forgive...
Alone in my roomI feel such a warmth for the communityBut out on the streetsI feel like a robot by the riverLooking for a drinkJiha Moon, Painter’s Argument, 2009* From Harper's March 2010: -- Chance that a name currently on the U.S. terrorism watch list...
Sad Poems
We don't say anything to each other. Though we speak every day. Dirty mirrors pretend our faces. Wet shoes. In place of our footsteps. Are all that remain. I should've been gone. But I didn't leave. I should've been orange, but I'm still red. Teasing those same old scabs. The...
Matadors on the edge of the red. Tease the horns of the beast. The red is the paradox. The thorns are the truth. The blood is evidence. That the victim is not who we think it is. I don't wait for the snow to melt. I shovel it away. Assuming....
Often the remedy is simply more of the sickness. This flesh. Like little elevators through warring dimensions. Time pondering. The growing infection of love. Couldn't we tell these same stories in the words we already have. Rather than stumbling through the time lines for poor substitutes. Couldn't we just wear....
Dimensions determined. By the absence of when. We were ever that young. That naive. As to believe. We would tell these stories without hurting. The monster. The caution signs. Proliferating. In idle cuts. The drug. More myself than I am. Torn belts on her heavy pants. Test the scorch marks...
The stairway on its tiptoes. Straining to see. What is right in front of it. The world in colored blocks. Testing her confidence. As she examines the evidence. The wolf puffing. While she hides in her straw house. Bricks falling all around her. Catching none. Her painted fingernails. Rife with...
Cost. In stumbles of skin. Measuring. What isn't there. The island. The drowning. That takes forever. And only minutes. As she forget the world that has already forgotten. Little poisons coax the sick. With promises of rescue. And worlds so different from the one we're stuck in. Teasing the monster....
Poetry of Life
should you find yourself at the captains helm as everyone around you is jumping ship do not lose your stride dont miss a step because I will be right beside you braving the storm as the cruel dark clouds loom just above the bow and the torrential rains begin to fall your nerves may get the best...
A simple poem dedicated for my friend that I met 5 years ago online, and almost a year now that we haven’t talk anymore. I just wonder where could he be ,but I wish that he is okay. I wish he will read this. This is for you best friend. There is...
I can’t exactly remember how and when we first met… We always have a pleasant conversation every time we chat on net. Knowing me, knowing you is what we usually do. Trying to enjoy being together every minute or two. Sometimes you make me feel so comfortable with you. But knowing that you’re so much...
today i sit and ponder i’ve reached farther than i ever dreamed possible, a time when i thought life was over only to start afresh at the stroke of dawn; bound by the unknown, i would break the shackles if i can just to go back to where it all began and rewrite the script with my...
Dawn tinges the black sky, A glow beyond the dark of night. Impossible shades of gray, Then silver turning to gold. Beauty only GOD can provide, Trying to light the sadness of my empty soul. Awake. Night followed by day followed by night. Alone. TV blaring trying to fill the soundless space within. Thoughts of failure, self-worth, Can I fix...
The shattering of my heart when you said goodbye Is like the waves of the ocean crashing against the rocks….. I stood there in the doorway Begging you not you leave, But you looked at me and said nothing. Your silence shot through my body Strait through my heart heart Right to my soul, I was...
Lorna Dee Cervantes
MURALISTAS! CULTURAL ENCOUNTERS: FIRST FRIDAY NIGHTS AT THE DE YOUNG Friday, March 5, 2010 5:45pm - 8:45pm de Young Museum, Golden Gate ParkOn FRIDAY MARCH 5TH, the de Young Museum presents another night of music, performance, lectures, and programs in the ongoing series MISSION MURALISMO, in conjunction with the...
Lorna Dee Cervantes Reading TONIGHT at Univ. of Oklahoma - Y'all Come Down!
Lorna Dee Cervantes reads for the Mark Allen Everett Poetry Series at the University of Oklahoma, TONIGHT, Tuesday March 2, at 7pm in Norman, Oklahoma. The reading will be held at the National Weather Center Auditorium (NE Corner Jenkins and Highway 9, OU Campus). A reception and book signing will...
For Chile, From Her Native Master, Pablo Neruda: "And the City Now Has Gone"
AND THE CITY NOW HAS GONEHow the clock moves on, relentlessly,with such assurance that it eats the years.The days are small and transitory grapes,the months grow faded, taken out of time.It fades, it falls away, the moment, firedby that implacable artillery-and suddenly, only a year is left to us,a month,...
Where In The World Is Lorna? 2010 Readings & Workshops Calendar
(in progess, will be updated as we go)Lorna Dee Cervantes Reading Calendar 2010Saturday, Feb. 27, 10 am"Building Bridges: The 1st Annual Latino Summit"Intensive Poetry WorkshopSt. Ignatius College Preparatory SchoolSan Francisco, CATuesday, March 2, 7pmMark Allen Everett Poetry SeriesPoetry ReadingDavid L. Boren Auditorium at the National Weather CenterOklahoma University (NE corner...
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1251711/Every-dolphins-gone-surfin-Stunning-pictures-hundreds-glide-monster-waves.htmlOn HappinessDolphins taught the apes to speakTo take comfort in the wait for wavesTo flow together in an arch of forgivenessTo pay attention to the past, pastEnvy into the hilarity of a new revelationJoy is the natural state, a constitutionWritten with the rags of war, the pangsOf indecision and a...
Statement on the occasion of Mission Latina/o poets honoring Diane diPrima's inauguration as Poet Laureate of San Francisco, 2/20/10I suspect I was invited to participate for my connection to The Mission, poetry, and the early days of MCC, and as soon as I was asked I said to myself: "Oh,...
PoetryFoundation.org
The Soul That Grows in Darkness by The Editors
In the last 100 years, perhaps no other artistic medium has provided more fodder for poetry than the cinema. Movies have become central to the poetic imagination, whether the poet celebrates the movies or reacts against celluloid saturation. While Sidney and Shelley exhausted a good deal of...
Good Poems About Ugly Things by Molly Young
Frederick Seidel. I wonder: Is it all true? I begin to read his Poems 1959–2009, and the first thing I notice is his poetry's dazzling mix of the historical and the individual. Into the emptiness that weighs / More than the universe / Another...
Nevermoreland by Abigail Deutsch
At midnight on October 8, 2009, about 50 people gathered on the sidewalk before Baltimore’s Westminster Church. Some wore jeans. Some wore pajamas. Some wore capes and gowns and girdles. The drivers rolling down Fayette Street slowed to peer at the assembly, which bulged beyond the...
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Inventing Michael Field by Michelle Lee
Some 125 years ago, a new playwright named Michael Field created a buzz among London literati with the print debut of two blank-verse dramas in a single volume: the ancient Greek Callirrhoë and the English historical Fair Rosamund. Callirrhoë and Fair Rosamund announced the “ring of a...
Carl Sandburg Stops Making Sense by Ross Simonini
Nonsense is for everyone. It falls off the tongues of all speakers of all languages everywhere, from Hugo Ball in Switzerland to Aimé Césaire in Martinique to SpongeBob SquarePants in Bikini Bottom. True, nonsense words and sentences can’t make arguments or walk through A-ergo-B lessons, but this is part of...
Harriet: The Blog
Poetry podcasts, online resources, oh and introducing Canada a wee bit more -- Sina Queyras
There may not be much poetry to read on my iPod, but there is a lot of poetry to listen to. So, if you’re a gym rat, you can take a variety of poetic journeys ranging from recorded readings, to discussions of poetry, to lectures. This is the upside to...
Chapbook Spotlight: Calaveras -- Craig Santos Perez
i heart chapbooks, especially chapbooks made with love. a new project that i am excited about is Calaveras, edited by sara mumolo & alisa heinzman. their first journal is quite innovative: it includes a series of 7 chapbooks (featuring poetry, essays, and interviews from 27 aesthetically and culturally diverse writers),...
The Best Thing Since Shakespeare -- Sotère Torregian
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Neighbo(u)r Addendum -- Thom Donovan
“The emotions are engaged Entering the city As entering any city. We are not coeval With a locality But we imagine others are, We encounter them.” –from George Oppen’s “Of Being Numerous” For the current February/March issue of the St. Mark’s Poetry Project Newsletter, I wrote a review of Canadian poet Rachel Zolf’s fourth full-length book of poems,...
Capitalist Marauders -- Sotère Torregian
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Of Grief & Poetry -- Sina Queyras
There is a lot of grief in your poetry someone said after my reading in Victoria last week. I have been reflecting on this, more so since upon arrival in Vancouver the following day I was met with news that my brother passed away. This is the fourth death in...
Wingtips
Warmest greetings to all of you
I am a bit late for Christmas, but still in time to greet you a wonderful 2010. I think the best way to greet a better world is with the innocence of a child. here's a friend's daughter....
Coming Back It's like telling the past to the dry stones in the river-- you sneak your fingers, displace the clinging spiders, unwrap places you visited and hear the friction of years, the creaking of leaves once buds and now......
Jeez, I have been absent for a long time, but missed my regular ( more or less) posts and visits. Resting after a long session of exams during which I was far more worried than the students who had to......
AVATAR REVIEW --11...
An old one recently revised for NaPo. Touching Light His liquid thoughts I measure on dry lips. We huddle in the bed; in silken tangle of twilight, savage flame, I lose my grip. He crosses hands around my knees then......
Trying to Write about Abruzzo's Earthquake
Trying to Write about Abruzzo's Earthquake The poem travelled by car, crossed half Italy all alone leaning its voice on crooked steeples, echoing voices buried under tons of ruins. It didn't ask for anything, not even words, arrived without warning......
rooted
I relish that tea you made meeach sip filled with your loveas I watch the far away clouds,I listen to the imaginary rumble of rainstime spent with you is always sacredI cherish those moments again and againit amazes me each time I visit youyour memory is as sharp as everyour...
deprived of sleepI slumber dreamily in the daywhen morbidity digsdigged morbidityturns around and runs awayheaven eludesheaven: misnomer;cloaking that invisibiltyof our ignorancean ignorant mindis delirious in itselfleave it well alonealoneness suits-mind turns towards bigger dreamsthriving within it~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I call those dancing verses, renamed haiku-let here. I have not done this for a...
leaves clinging to me like limpets
brown dots of decay has started to showmy gnarled branches sway slowlyyou can see the cracks in meI can't hear the beatific soundsof wind. I think of how I chimedto its hmm. it only makes me sad;tears slowly fall from my eyes.music of the soil is holding me nowI like...
before I feel you,I feel the tease of your breathon my neck-I close my eyessuck in my breath,at the soft touch of you on my shoulder.you understand my shyness-your movements are unhurried;your passion generates fire in mein that mist of desiremy meager protest disappearsI turn towards you eagerly...in the aftermath,you...
in that snatch of paperI list stuff my pens in various state of disintegrationI make arrows out of thosemy erasures falling apartwork as dicesmy pencils all so bluntI cut into small stacksthe paper I write on-is a part of used envelopeall supposedly wastedecidely play a part in my lifeI create...
fraught with such distraughtin darkness he touched her arm;said, dispel my insomnia...
Elsewhere
MACGREGOR CARD & KAREN WEISER at Segue/BPC Saturday March 6Bowery Poetry Club308 Bowery4:00-6:00 p.m.Six dollars goes to readersMacgregor Card’s first full-length collection of poetry, Duties of An English Foreign Secretary, is just out from Fence Modern Poets Series.Karen Weiser’s first full-length collection of poetry, To Light Out, is just out...
TOP THINGS PPL IN INDIAN VIDEO STORESHAVE SAID TO ME, CA. 2002-2008Click to view larger....
農夫!!!!!!!!!!!...
THE FLYColor me stoked. Finally found something on the Web about The Fly, a great band from Beijing, whose eponymous CD I found in a dollar rack on 8th Avenue in Brooklyn (aka Brooklyn Chinatown). Two videos from what appears to be a Japanese documentary about underground rock in Beijing:...
THE AUTRÉWhat do David Larsen, Najwa Karam, Raj Kapoor, Stacy Doris, Gu Cheng, Natacha Atlas, Screamin Jay Hawkins, Sakura Maku, Rodney Koeneke, Misora Hibari, Tom Hart, Suehiro Maruo, Asala Nasri, Los Bros. Hernandez, Manmohan Desai, Adeena Karasick, Yinka Shonibare, Chitra Ganesh, Madison Clell, Dambudzo Marechera, Ernst Herbeck, and Puffy have...
JENI OLIN & STEVEN ZULTANSKI Segue Series @ BPC308 Bowery just above Houston4:00 p.m. Saturday, February 20 Six bucks goes to readersJeni Olin has a new collection, Hold Tight: The Truck Darling Poems, forthcoming from HL this fall. Her first book, Blue Collar Holiday, with art by Larry Rivers, was...
anachronizms
poppy seeds & bibelotsadjunct all you wantpasted-up brain in the gutterroad bumps the clams hover aboutanimated birthmarkload rumps into the tunnelbefore the big decisionstylized Hudsuckermore Millay on quick sushishuttered butternice a lot mostly online...
way to pump that gagwing a wing on downto the red wine (Oonopais)Crackerjacks scatteredon the Public Parkingsidewalk – oenophilesat noon – Septemberaperitif – & a lot of thinking on all fours the whole enchiladasince Friday – howhelp nomad landat noon – Septemberruffians of the rightwing – iPhonestinkling amongst the redwoods...
Language is a sand bar. —Kit RobinsonFact actions are the greatest. If you want to send a memoI’ll circulate it. Nothing beyond the obvious, of course.I couldn’t agree more. Very pleasant terminal of anafternoon. Finally getting clear about the other guy.Don’t lie...
Is this a massage? It certainly feels like one.Lars lights up from smelt. History repeats it-self into a mister, lights up New York for thethird or fourth time. The average cost permonkfish is seventy-five dollars. Lookup heartfelt. Look up, heartfelt. Bogey.Noon is a tundra of government scrutiny. Take pictures...
Sorry BeijingWords in the middle of the mouth. Gelatin sky over sloping people sipping green tea. Disney buys aerial wedges – four billion dollars. Hulu Young & the Restless just to feel something. Come over – repeat – come over and check me out (new identity)....
Reading just depressed me.I’ll suffer with the dawgs of Awgust. Let themremember me this way, torn apart from my meat,putting on the wrong face and forgetting to weara belt. The hallway’s doused in tingly lubricantand breakfast is nothing but a couple of birds inthe attic. What found me there? What...
Soul Gaze
Sexo sin Amor, Noche sin Estrellas
El sexo sin amor es como llorar sin lagrimas, como reir sin risas, Como dormir sin suenos, como dicha sin esperanza Como fruto sin dulzura, como entrga sin extasis, Como lirio sin perfume, como noche sin estrellas… El amor sin sexo, por su parte, suele ser hoguera apagada en la edad fecunda Nube que oculta...
It was all infatuation a figment of my imagination a hopeful heart listening to pie in the sky It wasn’t real hidden behind a mask now dropped to the ground showing an ugly side Rise up my hands to heaven thankful is now and not later when all is done would have brought more tears to my eyes No reason, no justification to use...
Flames flicker in the darkness, my senses awakening, my emotions rising, shining through, slicing barriers tumbling down defenses. Words linger in the air dancing, flirting with ideas not knowing where it goes or where is taken but loving the sensations. Shining through the loneliness, walking a new path, unaware of the emotions that wrap this heart; molding, melting, transforming. Longing for the...
Wrapped in unending words in inexplicable sensations waves crashing on the shore of the desolate beach. Refreshed in forceful emotions long gone with time forgotten and then discovered like holy ground. Wrapped in soft words lingering close to the heart shining through the dark revealing a gold treasure. Shower with attentions full of shining dreams fantasies galore what else could I see. Wrapped in...
There you are Standing in the cold winter Waiting to be ushered in But the gate is closed At least for now Cause they guard A shattered heart And you look across the courtyard of a beautiful garden that took years to build but now is starting to dry out in the cold winter eve of a dark night In time all will...
There something special about caring without seeing, without touching, just gentle words across the space connecting one to the other. There is something special about touching without feeling a hand and yet having the sensation of being caressed all over with the sound of your voice. There is something special about dreaming to the point of thinking is was all real, just because our minds connect in a...
Poetry News
John Lundberg: Stage, Screen Stars Record Poetry Album
One hundred Hollywood and Broadway stars, including Catherine Zeta-Jones, Cynthia Nixon and Jason Alexander, are recording their favorite poems for a soon-to be-released album of poetry called Poetic License ....
Foot of the Lake poetry group to discuss song lyrics
Song lyrics will be the topic of the Foot of the Lake Poetry Collective's monthly meeting....
Richard Ford at UT, poetry and the movies, and a fond farewell to a reclusive literary legend
One of the lovely things about attending readings sponsored by the University of Texas' Michener Center for Writers is the large ratio of writing students in the audience, whose presence occasions a valuable level of "shoptalk" unavailable at bookstore events....
ADACH launches the largest encyclopedia of Arab poetry
WAM Abu Dhabi, 6th March 2010 - The National Library of the Abu Dhabi Authority for Culture and Heritage launched the largest electronic encyclopedia for Arab poetry....
SUNY New Paltz continues poetry slam
The Wade-Lewis Poetry Slam, the largest collegiate poetry slam in the nation, continues tonight at SUNY New Paltz with an appearance by HBO Def Poet Anis Mojgani....
April is National Poetry Month and now is a good time to encourage young poets to begin preparing to write their own poems for National Poetry Month....
One Poet's Notes
SEEDED LIGHT: Poems by Edward Byrne
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Poem of the Week: "From the Maelstrom" by Ned Balbo
The VPR Poem of the Week is Ned Balbo’s “From the Maelstrom,” which appeared in the Spring/Summer 2006 issue (Volume VII, Number 2) of Valparaiso Poetry Review.Ned Balbo’s first book of poetry, Galileo's Banquet, received the Towson University Prize for Literature. A second collection, Lives of the Sleepers, won the...
Helen Vendler, Robert Lowell, Modernism, and LIFE STUDIES
Robert Lowell was born on this date (March 1) in 1917. Therefore, this appears an appropriate moment to present Helen Vendler speaking a bit about Lowell’s contributions and influence, as well as his place among modern poetry and art. As seen above, Vendler was interviewed last October by Jim Cuno,...
Poem of the Week: Floyd Skloot's "At Rowan Oak"
The VPR Poem of the Week is Floyd Skloot’s “At Rowan Oak,” which appeared in the Fall/Winter 2009-2010 issue (Volume XI, Number 1) of Valparaiso Poetry Review.Floyd Skloot is a nonfiction writer, poet, and novelist whose work has been published widely in periodicals such as American Scholar, Atlantic Monthly, Harper’s,...
Pushcart Prize Nominations: VALPARAISO POETRY REVIEW
I am pleased to report that I have received a letter from Bill Henderson, editor of the annual anthology, The Pushcart Prize: Best of the Small Presses, informing me that three poems published in the fall issue of Valparaiso Poetry Review (Volume XI, Number 1) have been nominated by the...
Poem of the Week: "Still Dark" by Norbert Krapf
The VPR Poem of the Week is Norbert Krapf’s “Still Dark,” which appeared in the Spring/Summer 2009 issue (Volume X, Number 2) of Valparaiso Poetry Review.Norbert Krapf taught for 34 years at Long Island University, where he directed the C.W. Post Poetry Center. He is currently serving as the...
My Gorgeous Somewhere
Starting now, I am banning every visitor to my site that looks suspicious. You are most likely to be affected if you use a mobile device or if you are using a proxy to view the site. I am trying to block those I have asked to stop engaging with...
christine hamm’s ‘why didn’t you save me, you continue to ask’
How to make a bong with a knife / and a salt shaker, a knife and a shoelace, / a knife and a human hand....
Joseph Harker is taking over Poetry x 12, the monthly poetry-reading challenge I started in January after being inspired by my public library’s monthly, themed reading challenge for its employees. Go visit Joseph’s blog to get the skinny on the March challenge, as well as the reading challenges for the...
kristen mchenry’s ‘the goatfish alphabet’ is now available
Click on the link to purchase your copy now. Do it. You know you want to. (Hers is the second collection down from the top of the page.)...
oh wow, a reading and/or workshop every day in the month of march
Sometimes I love Seattle. Right now, I love Pilot Books in Seattle. Click on the image to see everyone who is reading or giving a workshop there this month....
A friend sent me this piece from Adrienne Rich’s Midnight Salvage. It seems central to what I have been writing about in terms of my leaving poetry, and more specifically in terms of eventually finding my way back to it. I feel the pressure of “this horrible patience.” I am...
something katy
Lizzy and I went for Tea at the Dunbar
Dunbar Tea Shop in Sandwich...
are you the tragedy i've heard so much about?you're the one with all the opportunitiesbut too strong of an adverse response to commitmentyou're the one that comes in for a chatand leaves just as we're getting to talk about meyou're the one that... well, we'll never know....
Cormac was enjoying dinner with his family when the front door bell rang. His sister Amy stood on the front porch shivering in the 52 degree summer night air. “Good God, Amy, what happened to you?” Her hair was in a pulled apart, messy pony tail and her up-town girl...
The face looking down at her was upside down and only mildly attractive. His face was upside down because he was standing over her. He was standing over her because she was lying down in a pew with her head towards the center aisle of the Hidden Gem.“What, um, what...
Tiki’s dad had been missing for two days when the looming, dark stranger rang their front door bell with a big bunch of slightly wilting roses in his hand. He spoke with an old Irish accent, “Hello, may I come in?” he asked gentlemanly enough.Tiki shut the door “hold on,...
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The Endless Saga
snowy morning—hands wrapped arounda steaming cup(c) James Eric Watkins 2009...
He opened up his soulto look inside but all he foundwere more places to hidedeeper, much darker placeswhere sorrow livedon the tearsof forgottenfacesin deepermuch deeperdarker places~Snow Devilsin the winter-timesunsnow devils swirlacross an open fieldrace each othertoward a split-railfence(c) James Eric Watkins 2009...
The glarefrom the blackbird’s feathersblinded me with a single stare.I looked away, looked back,watched him perchin an old oakoutside my window.I began to recreatehis story in my mind,just what it was that led him here to this tree.But then he turned and looked at me.Our eyes met for but a...
This is from back in the summer,or perhaps spring.I think it was before I had my heart attack,or one of them.It turns outthat, most likely,I've had others.I wrote a new poem,which is posted below.I hope that you enjoy it.I used to deer hunt with my fatherbefore he died.I never killed...
The Hunter’s Fresh KillOnce a heaving beastrunning through the foresthe now lies in piecesin a large bowlbrought up and overthe side of a pick-uptruck by a feller withan accent and a col’ beerin his other hand. ...
Madness & Clarity Shades of Being, Perception, and Personality (some of the stuff I've published thus far)Get yours today.Copies are limited.Click Here to read more.Only $5.00 and shipped anywhere inside the U.S. for FREE!...
World Class Poetry Blog
I’m a little slow in announcing this, but my poem “Gunfight In Manhattan” has been published in the online journal My Favorite Bullet. The poem is a part of my upcoming collection Rumsfeld’s Sandbox and follows the publication of other poems in the collection. Those poems include: “Battlefield Confession” “Cigar” “Life” “Love And War” “Old Goth” “20...
If you’ve been wondering about the silence on this side of the Web, I guess now is the time to break it. I would like to say Happy New Year to my loyal readers and say that it’s been a great holiday for me – but I’m just as glad...
Poetry Video: the giant by Kate Greenstreet
Poets are getting more creative in how we promote ourselves. I’m glad to see it. I think this is going to be something we see more and more of in the future. Kate Greenstreet has moved us forward into the 21st century with this poetry video. I see these efforts...
Breadcrumb Sins: Featured Writer, Guess Who
A few days ago I discovered a new poetry journal in the form of a blog. This appears to be the latest trend in online publishing and one I welcome and admire. The blog format is the perfect online format for ongoing publication and suits the journal just fine. I...
The Nuts And Bolts Of Zukofsky
After reading 12-1/2 chapters of “A” by Louis Zukofsky, I’m convinced Zukofsky must have been a lunatic. Only such a person could have spent an entire life on a work such as “A”. I’m sure “A” has some literary value, but in large part it is a mad rambling. Zukofsky has...
My wife is a great woman. When I ask for chicken broth she brings it to me. And she does other things too. But I needed chicken broth last night and she made me the best cup of broth I’ve ever had. Thanks, wife. I’ve been fighting a cold now for...