Category Archives: Poems

I know no better way to live than to spend my life with you. I know no better laughter than that, mixed in raucous joy, with yours. I know no better place to lie than in your warm embrace. I … Continue reading →

In the late afternoon on the 4th of July, Maria Rodriguez and Charles Foxworthy stood before The Right Reverend James Wentworth and Father Haroldo Perozo SJ to proclaim their Declaration of Interdependence. In front of friends and family they mutually … Continue reading →

The view through the back window, behind the pine pew and the elders chairs, holds more than mere memory. It’s that old Live Oak does it. Its thinner branches whisper like moaning ghosts in midnight breezes. Right convenient it was, … Continue reading →

Divinity abides in the center of my soul, in that core where, as Jehovah in the Sinai bush, it burns, but does not consume. And when my obsolete, extraneous members made of blood and bone and piss disolve, after that … Continue reading →

That brief moment between sleep and waking when a glorious dream is fading fast, past remembering and even in the dim memory of it it feels as though I will never be as happy… And the growing sorrow, as I … Continue reading →

How do I hold on to a moment – in a place – with a person – locked in the fading memory of a dream? A place I’ve never been. A person I’ve never known. A moment I’ve never lived. … Continue reading →

I’ve aged to that perilous moment when my peers are passing on! And I just got word a dear old friend has died. I guess I’ve reached well passed the danger of dying before my time and each heart beat … Continue reading →

“To go”. Irregular verb (I think) Present tense, first person singular: “I go.” Past tense: “I goed” ? No!!! Irregular verb! “I went” ? Yes!!! Future Tense: I shall go!! Yes!!! Some more complicated Verb tense form: (maybe future plu- … Continue reading →

A wet wad of tissue on the wicker, bed-side table. Your long, deep, moans echo in my ears, still. Misty, shrouded sun rising and blueing sky filter through gauzy, white-cotton-lace curtains hanging in front of our big bay bedroom window. … Continue reading →

The old fisherman’s cast. His quick jig snaps his lure against the incoming current Again, the slow rhythm of his cast. The quick jig. The slow rhythm. The motoring out of the fishing fleet. Each morning out to 50 mile … Continue reading →