Turning Seventy and Other Tragedies

April 18, 2014 § 2 Comments

for Friend & Fellow Poet Ken Chawkin

There is the bridge where a 27 year old bungee jumper took his last dive, having measured incorrectly—a mere mistake of math. Beneath that huge mound a fat man is buried, his 44 year old heart a pumpkin gone bad. And here is a macadamia nut like the one that just yesterday as if a cork into a bottle entered the windpipe of a woman who was texting while snacking and though she texted for help it came too late.

While all this and more has happened you live on… having survived bullies in the playground, learning to drive, the knife throwing redhead you have yet to talk about, as every plane you’ve flown on landed safely, every macadamia nut you’ve ever eaten went the way it should, and though your hair is grey, your head balding and your joints crack, you are yet the boy who chased butterflies, your heart is yet the heart that fell in love for the first time, that falls in love every time a pretty girl walks past, and your left eye is yet the Moon and your right the Sun as you look out from your inner heaven as we wish you Happy Birthday one more time.

Great River Road

April 14, 2014 § Leave a comment

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Flash Not Allowed

April 14, 2014 § Leave a comment

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Warm Coats & Snow

February 23, 2014 § Leave a comment

Warm Coats & Snow

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Words On Doors & Other Signs

January 26, 2014 § Leave a comment

Words On Doors & Other Signs
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Eagles on the Mississippi

January 4, 2014 § Leave a comment

Eagles on the Mississippi
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Magic Light (Winner of the 2012 Norman Thomas Memorial Award-Iowa Poetry Association)

August 28, 2012 § 2 Comments

Ansel Adams sits up

reaches for his camera—

his arm bony as a tripod leg

for it is “Magic Light”

the golden light of sunrise

and sunset.

 

But then he lays back down

and focusing instead

through the lens of his soul

in the black box of his skull

he sees… all the light

 

that ever filled Yosemite

or blazed the crosses at Hernandez

and with his brittle jaw

with its few teeth remaining

there in the dark room of a coffin

he smiles.

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