Category Archives: Poems

Don’t abuse the muse, amuse the muse with glimmers she has wrought. Use the muse. So you won’t lose the muse (at least that’s what I’ve been taught.)

PROSPERO: “I wish to touch the heat again, to feel the flame, the power, to sense on skin the joy of sin to watch the passions flower.” ARIEL: “Come, old lover,take my hand. I’ll lead you thru’ infernos. (aside) (It’s … Continue reading →

Life is spaced by coffins draped in cotton, lace and silk. The graves we daily excavate, with mass productions fill. Now, I don’t believe in easy Grace (some bastards are far from God). But in those unnumbered earthy holes, quay … Continue reading →

This is April first. Still there is Winters chill. Tall, leafless trunks lean expectantly, southerly, pulled by the suns weighty creep. They long for the warmth, yet still is the cold touch. Oh! They know leafy May blooms soon, but … Continue reading →

Listen for the sense in the noise. Spring, like the birthing room, is chaos and cacophony, as Winter,like the grave, is silence. So now, comes Summer. I’m dozing in my swing squinting my ear for theme amidst all of Natures … Continue reading →

The ape came, walking, dripping savagery and blood drool, his mouth agape in idiot awe. Behind him, the jungle, fecund, fetid, raw. The law he knew: unchallenged reign of strongest claw, the kill, unquestioned by prey or predator, death, a … Continue reading →

If I keep the slope to my left, the stone wall to my right and stalk, silent in the nearly spring snow fall, I can sneak around the rock ledge to startle the gang of white tails gathered for brief … Continue reading →

Who told the nuthatch, “Psst! The seed’s inside the shell!” thereby letting that bird avoid intestinal hell?

I’m relieved to hear that only apes and me use tools. I’d hate to think the chickadee was playing us for fools, when he jams the sunflower seed into a crack in an oaks rough bark, holds it firm, (dare … Continue reading →

Add sorrow. Subtract support. Multiply solitude. Divide security. And, though we have, “shown all our work”, the Answer is never right.