Category Archives: Poems

Too many poets write god – poorly, shrouded in obscurity, make obscurity a god. Then read their garbled gospel to the multitude on the Mount, only to fail and resort to whining angst. Why struggle to put to poetry a … Continue reading →

In my back yard, there’s a strip of lawn, ten feet wide, fifty feet long. It’s a feeding zone where, during the years Nancy and I have lived here, we have fed the birds and animals suet, meley-worms, black-oil-sunflower-seeds, sugar-water, … Continue reading →

I’m offering a suggestion to help you become a better runner in the human race to get laid: Create a long menu of delicious breakfasts. – A dozen different omelettes . (Shrimp and crap with mushrooms and Swiss is one … Continue reading →

I’ve always been the one outside, playing in the storm. A blizzard in January? I’d be digging tunnels through ten-foot-drifts in the boat yards on City Island, tromping through thigh-high-snow, X-country skiing in knee-deep-deep-woods-powder, my Golden Retrieve, like a schooner … Continue reading →

Only with you can I piece-up a quilt from a thousand swatches of joy. With prayer, love and care, I will stitch all the stitches in the calico rainbow that ends on our bed. (…in the calico rainbow on our … Continue reading →

“Move along, folks. Nothing to see here,” says the cop in the long black robe and hoodie, holding a scythe whose only purpose is to keep the traffic flowing after another of those fated accidents where someones string runs out … Continue reading →

The words priests use to stumble around the Mystery are our best-worst-case-fall-back from the kneeling bench. They are all we really have that’s real to speak of how we feel, short of being, “In the Presence Of”, what ever that … Continue reading →

The old Fox Squirrel playing clean-up crew under my back-yard-bird-feeders and I have a budding relationship. (Not exactly mishpouka, yet, but gradually, we’re getting close) He no longer runs when I walk outside through the back-porch-door. (That was in the … Continue reading →

The luxury of a quiet morning in a comfy bed is neither lessened nor enhanced by company. Each a treasure of its own kind. The sweaty leisure of satisfied flesh, the thoughtful pleasure of a thinking mind. No precedent-conflict here … Continue reading →

Wet Dreams are gone. Marathons are run. What’s left but a stroll in the evening sun? Weight plates hang on racks. I got to take care of my crumbling back. Pace maker’s tickin’ Pulse rates low Hearing aids workin’ Memory… … Continue reading →