Category Archives: Poems

Whenever I feel the need to be beaten, at chess, I call my neighbor for a tournament. We’ll play two games, a third if we need to break the tie, though usually, we don’t. He always wins. I learn some … Continue reading →

(This is a short story, not a poem. It is long. If you are looking for poems, work back or forward in the blog and skip this. This story is in my poetry blog because I couldn’t figure out how … Continue reading →

Just for the fun of it: Realism: Everything is broken and it works. Idealism: Everything works as it was ideally meant to, even if it’s broken. Pragmatism: Most of it is broken, but it’s all we have. Optimism: The cup … Continue reading →

My wife’s warm mouth is oven for my lust. With pressing need heeded, kneaded rare enough to be succulent, I am slid in to her heat. OH! Ah! for the times when gentle nibbles suffice to send the juices………..shooting. Then, … Continue reading →

Rap is not “the death of poetry”, rather the honing of tools poets have used for centuries: pounding rhythms; rhymes welding lines together; staccato stanzas stuffed with perfect words; themes to resurrect to soul! A well wrought rap is Dickinson … Continue reading →

Old Friend, Create, again, in me, a new-born, ferocious-faith in Thee. Roust me up from creaking knee, shove me toward eternity. When comes, at last, Deaths hooded face, grant, by Grace, the serenity of the saved. Amen!

Some mutt left a deposit in the dirt lot across the street from my house, right on the spot where Johnny and I wrestled the summer afternoons away. So, of course, I rolled right into it. “Oh! Shit!” Johnny groaned. … Continue reading →

I am no fan of the Superiority of Man. Take him away! Let me sit at my desk, spinning silken sounds, weaving words. But, know this: Mans entitlement to patrimony is as old as testosterone. Arising back, past Mohammed in … Continue reading →

He was no lamb! This was a lion led to slaughter. Not with bloody bleating, rather, with intention and a muffled growl, He submitted. Even knowing His power, aware of possibilities: a shredded centurion; a pharisee devoured; even never seeing … Continue reading →

I know why Saint Francis felt called to preach the Gospel to the birds. While he fed them meager scraps of his poverty, he saw humanity held no monopoly on sin. The little feathered fiends attacked each other, beak and … Continue reading →