Category Archives: Poems

first, fetal. then, fatal. more earth than birth. more Devined than timed. more sigh than lie. more life than strife. then rest before Best.

Forgotten between praises for his championship-antiquarian father, Methuselah and his “THE END IS COMING!!!!!” preaching son, Noah, Lemach, who was 182 when Noah was born, waited 500 years for Noah to begat him some grandsons! (What the hell was Noah … Continue reading →

Early Spring stormed the Valley this year. Noahs own flood rains beat the blossoms from their tenuous hold on the apple trees, pounding the petals, as wounded in battle perish in the mud and blood of bayonet combat, drown beneath … Continue reading →

How came the serpent to be more crafty than any beast in Eden? More crafty than the only woman in the garden, Eve, who was, it turns out, more crafty than Adam, according to Adam, who said, ” The woman … Continue reading →

Jared, at 162, begat Enoch. Enoch, at 65, a mere child, begat Methuselah. Enoch, at 365, left to walk with God, leaving his father, Jared, and his son, Methuselah, to wander the dunes together. Now, Jared was 962 when he … Continue reading →

Jared, at 162, fathered Enoch, who, at 65, (just out of puberty), fathered Methuselah. 300 years later, Enoch was not! At 365, God took him, removed him from the multi-generaional sandwich in which he was caught. Since Jared died at … Continue reading →

Brenna Elizabeth Sheeley I claim as grand-daughter for by now, the idea of “step” is irrelevant. She is a bundle of energy, brilliant imagination and giggling enthusiasm. Need to laugh, find Brenna. She is the only daughter of my ____ … Continue reading →

My grand-niece, Genevieve Mae Machado, called “GG”, five years old, a green-eyed, carrot-haired sprite, is the only child and daughter of my niece, Marie Elizabeth Machado, called “Maribeth”, a brave young woman who created and recreated herself, became a nurse … Continue reading →

My grand niece is nicknamed “GG”. I hold GG’s great, great, grandmothers spoon, tarnished, filagreed, engraved with “E. L. Atlanta” for Elizabeth Louise Atlanta Matisen, my grand mother who I never met, but have seen in old sepia photos, holding … Continue reading →

If we might be patient enough to wait, to watch, Nature will reveal herself in soft sighs, sensual moves, gentle touches, rainbows. Slowly slides down her Autumn dress, softly she sings to each arriving bird. Her slow lap dance with … Continue reading →