Cruel corrosive minds Embark on destructive paths, While cold sarcastic hearts Swirl in abrasive wrath, Neither knowing love Nor the symphonies of fact.Read More
I Dreamed: When I am marvelous The Mountain holds me up High in the sky and all the canyons Shallow and narrow, Deep and wide, Harbor my shadow; When I am menial The many foothills of the Mountain Rise up And with thundering...Read More
No matter how hard you may struggle to prevent, There seem to be twists and turns you can never detour That counteract all the tricks you can ever invent, As if some power before-hand had determined that tour. Born like a...Read More
Once it left me only to pine With a heart defeated mad and sad, So, every time I lift a glass of wine Showing its true color so blood-red, I drink it to what they call Love, or whatever they may, That’s been known to conquer...Read More
Forget the corny décor. Of all the beachside cafes, Nick’s Mermaid Café, his old-fashioned regular, still serves the best cooked English breakfast south of the city. He finishes the last of his poached egg, sips his sanctioned...Read More
Staring out the window of a plane there is a certain uniformity to the world. Confusing city scapes become ceramic tile countertops and farmland turns into an autumn-colored watercolor canvas. The elementary school where we...Read More
I, Alvy, do not like to travel. Oh, and I am haunted by loud memories. -journal entry I’m tired. The moon is full; its light dapples Lake Champlain. It’s quiet until, but as usual, Pelagea and Tino, upstairs...Read More
There’s no tomorrow and yesterday’s forgotten. Dad saw himself as disabled and in some ways he was. He was an emotional cripple, that’s for sure. He flew into rages over nothing. I once got up the courage to point out there...Read More
At the present moment, I am in-between projects – – stories that I write. The in-between time when I was younger, say seventy was much shorter than it is now that I’m ninety years old. Then, in retrospect, ideas...Read More
November 18, 2018 In the midst of its migration, the butterfly paused to rest and landed on my wrist, and the first of a brief flurry of snow lit and melted on it. In this way was my short sit on the porch prolonged at the...Read More
Grindstone of words cut into pieces of Bissel and spittle. The slivers of sapphire, fall in love with themselves — refusing to find a finger to place a ring, because the circle of poems speaks in bright sunlight Walk...Read More
Unflappable in the wind, The letters attach like sewn tapestry. Tradition of lovers and humanists stand In ancient moonlight. No need of a Norman conquest to last Eleven centuries on cloth. But the year 3030? Literati and...Read More
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