We Try to Matter We try to preserve it, our story, we try to matter. Life is a series of little attempts. Not just now, but forever, we believe that slick technology or really rich posole, or the right lover at the right hour with the right. . . what ? . . . astrology sign... Continue Reading →
Teach your children well. Let them know when to protest, when to pray. If sink or swim are the options, tell them to swim. Always. Teach your children well. Make mistakes, but own them. Make cookies. Lots of them. Make rules, and bend them carefully and only if necessary. Teach your children well. Trust them.... Continue Reading →
An Anti-Trump Poetry Reading It begins with listening. As writers resist I hear ridicule of the ridiculous. I hear more, again, no! Hands and penises and size... No. Like eating ice cream with my ears brain freeze I stop listening. It begins with listening. A dozen synonyms for orange. Tangerine. Cantaloupe. No! All fruit all... Continue Reading →
Near Misses, and Someday Posts I wasn't hurt in Detroit Race Riots of '67 even when we broke curfew . . . to have a happy parade I was not lost in the blizzard of '65 although I was lost to love in the blizzard of '78 No brakes, no fear. Bernie saved us in... Continue Reading →
Pockets. The forest is replete with secrets, the pockets that protect them. Dark hollows full of mystery and intrigue hidden codes, stories. Veracities. Boo Radley gave them great fame. As did Perry Como. Falling stars and all. We love pockets (or is it the secrets)? To carry a surprise. A little bomb of the unknown.... Continue Reading →
Leaves and needles hide the trail boulders just trip hazards now. Watch out. Watch for life. Acorns. Cones and needles. And death. We think it is other. Life. Something other than this. Than what we live. Or lose. It isn't. Obscurity and autumn, secrets tease early winter waiting beneath ankles slipping or twisting. Forest debris thick with leaves that have all... Continue Reading →
(For months I had this domain, and I had created the format for the blog, but I had not posted, and each time I came to the domain, to ponder next steps, this is what it told me. "Nothing Found Here"). 'Nothing found here,' nothing but possibility and blank days no judgment or forecast like an old Ponderosa towering... Continue Reading →
pocket poet 