Writing is treasure mining, isn’t it? The sifting of options among all that language has to offer. In the process, leave the hollow expressions that lie buried from overkill to rest in peace. Settle on what’s attractive and weighty. Don’t clutter your collection with dry, ossified castoffs of nature that add nothing to your art.… Read More The Writing Process II, Part 2: Let the Clichés R.I.P.
my boy i am the shade of his sun afraid he will burn, but i am more than the smell of the bosom he has learned, i am the album of regrets and and deficiency and forgiving the roots that climb deep down parents’ omissions i am the… Read More st r u gg ling artist ii
I vault the sky — blue a trite fancy — the expanse, the clear color of longing The horizon gives way to empyreal heights and delicious air, my face to the eye of the sun Is it calling or indulgence to ride the wings of one’s own prayers? I could sleep in the wind. I… Read More Sleep in the Wind
so i decided i am more than the answer to “what’s for dinner?” the unrelenting pile of dishes more than the name i changed at the altar, and the ways i fail Husband more than the boy i nursed ’til i was spent and would give… Read More st r u gg ling artist
A vine of dreams: luscious grapes resign all fear They bruise underfoot barrels brim in earnest dark and time turns into wine.
What color is make-believe, you ask? It is the color of time that never runs out, the sun streaming over a land where children are kings and queens, It is the heart of Middle-earth The color of Cinderella’s tears, the color of beauty who loved the beast Pinocchio’s lies and the virtue of knights, the… Read More The Color of Make-Believe
He dressed the day with clouds and spilled a sea of stars into the night calling each by name The night’s aria declares His deep pleasure The universe is intoxicated with glory. The Autumn wind gasps the surety of Winter The geese, one giant wing a moving geometry that angles into the wind How… Read More — know?
Crack open time Poetry sifts the moment The lyric of dreams aborted hope hearth of pain Poetry is the space between the noise outside and my voice Poetry reasons is intention question assurance a luscious joy Jealous for beauty Poetry, watercolor memory surfaces to clear lines, light Poetry … Read More On Poetry
If you haven’t seen this, check out the action on HarsH ReaLiTy. I wanted to stretch myself as a writer: http://aopinionatedman.com/2014/02/10/90-seconds-on-the-round/
So another day gives way to dusk Feels like more than 40 years of road I kept pace down Fifth Avenue and ambled on West 4th where I shot the eight ball into corner pockets in the Village, time ungrudging when I was young. Verdant Pennsylvania trails crossed country to Pacific sand where I met… Read More The Wayfaring
A Holistic Journey 