Monday Poem
Homes we all leave home eventually, leave the dark comfort of wombs, leave the home of childhood, some earlier than others depending upon the warmth or not of particular hearths. inevitably some step out and abandon silver spoons like Siddhartha who was not comforted by comfort, while some break from huts of sheer neglect. eventually,…
Monday Poem
“Parrots, songbirds and hummingbirds all learn new vocalizations. The calls and songs of some species in these groups appear to have even more in common with human language, such as conveying information intentionally and using simple forms of some of the elements of human language such as phonology, semantics and syntax. And the similarities run…
Monday Poem
Monday Poem
Who Spoke First? who knows from where the echoes come, who knows who forms the echoes? if, in a canyon, I speak loudly enough that echoes come, I might think it’s me, I am the maker of echoes, I belch a series of wave forms toward a mirror of cliff and hear myself return on…
Monday Poem
Making Way —Narragansett Bay —1960, first time out We part from pier slow as disengaging lovers one landlocked, the other a floater who won’t be kept at bay The diminishing dock slides back, its bollards and planks deploy to some other place not here —to a distancing otherworld The tether breaks as stern-first we pass…
Monday Poem
A Sprawl of Cemeteries Blood for blood is in our bones, the bass line of a ceaseless requiem. Justice screams carpe diem, but none of the dead are soothed as the living gloat and hoot, or wail Why did it have to be her, or him? Satisfaction’s not been found in the pages of our “Good Books”.…
Monday Poem
Monday Poem
Two young men greeted a new crew member on a ship’s quarterdeck 60 years ago and, in a matter of weeks, by simple challenge, introduced this then 18 year-old who’d never really read a book through to the lives that can be found in them.… —Thank you Anthony Gaeta and Edmund Budde for your life-altering input.…
Monday Poem
Monday Poem
—on the song, Twelve Days of Christmas; words here: https://genius.com/Christmas-songs-the-twelve-days-of… ________________________________________ Twelve Days of Christmas and Other Mysteries What does it mean exactly, the chronic return of a partridge, which, swaddled in melody, follows an accumulated bullet list of things my true love gave to me —what must I have missed? — We start with…
Monday Poem
Fundamental Disunderstanding ….—thoughts on Oct. 7th and Gaza everything ever written or said everything drawn or played or sung every headline that cried or bled every fresco, every poem everything wrung from our cranial sponge every inky insult flung every bomb that leveled a home ….and left a child to fend alone every instrument ever…
Monday Poem
No Joke Regarding quantum chance, why (or more simply) does the world exist, and if it does, is it funny? There might just as well be nothing instead of the risible sun which makes me laugh when it comes up coincidentally with the punch line of a joke that also could never have existed had…
Monday Poem
Monday Poem
Monday Poem
Monday Poem
“It was only when my father died in 2016 that this deep truth of human existence hit me: there are two basic categories of people, the living and the dead, and the members of both categories are equally people. Some people are dead people, in other words.” —Justin Smith-Ruiu, from 3 Quarks Daily Knot There are days…