Tag Archives: writers

Haiku–Peace as an Odd Job

Is coming to peace with ambiguity a pathway to wisdom? (illusion: sommer-sommer.com; trees: wisdom-square.com) Advertisements

Posted in Absolutes, Art, Consciousness, Haiku, Hope, Poem, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Squeezed Grey

I lob my own entrails without consequence or accountability, as if they are profound, as if they aren’t useless, as if they are art. Squandering breath has become a hobby and a habit. Each breath measures part of a poem … Continue reading

Posted in Absolutes, Art, Poetry, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

Haiku–Polaris on Deck

Awake: cannot sleep. The deck beckons; I am rapt. Hello, Polaris.

Posted in Haiku, Poem, Slice of Life | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ballpoint Chisel (for Sharon Olds)

Long ago I shook your hand and told you how much I love your work. I wanted to tell you what little I know about women has come from my wife and your carefully erected words. I wanted to tell … Continue reading

Posted in Poem, Slice of Life, women, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | 6 Comments

Haiku–Bright Tracks

Walking tracks, bright sun, cold bites around the edges: a day with promise.

Posted in Gratitude, Haiku, Oregon, Poem, Uncategorized, walking | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Tanka–Who Was I?

A rainy morning: I wonder who I might be; the windows are streaked. Trees await my scrutiny; is it windier out there?   (top: situation-kunst.de; bottom: controlyourcash.com)

Posted in memory, Oregon, Poem, Tanka, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

In The Telling

My story moves around who’s doing the telling; who’s listening also forms the shape of it. I don’t much care as long as it’s all about me. In the dark, when I cannot see the ceiling, it’s not all about … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Consciousness, Humans, Poem | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Fishing

A flick of the wrist: the spotted lure sails across the stream and blurps into the shadow under the far bank. The current catches my flash. Another flick of the wrist, gentler this time, and the rod tip aligns the spinner’s … Continue reading

Posted in Hope, Morning, Oregon, Poem, Writing | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Siphon

Getting a flow started is not without consequences. You must overcome gravity even as you rely upon it. Avoiding a mouthful of what you cannot swallow is key.   (top: hikearizona.com; bottom: secretsofthefed.com)

Posted in Hope, Man, Poem, Writing | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

My Hand Moves

My hand moves. A thread tugs my frontal lobes. At the other end, my ancient brain blazes a light like a Christmas star across those hills barely seen. Maybe the thread spans a river, vast and microscopic at the same time, … Continue reading

Posted in Poem, Writing | Tagged , , | 2 Comments