Category: Poems

Poem: The Character of Flowers

Can it be said (with certainty or not) about the things that grow?: There, see it! That’s (fill in the blank) incarnate! They do not feel, we suppose. So is it not somewhat fatuous, silly as a schoolgirl discovering the pulse Of a bass guitar limning the rhythm of adolescence, To call wisteria wistful. To...

Poem: Here, Then Gone

He wrote more plays than most people read In a lifetime. Some of them were quite good said the accrediting minyans Worthy of prizes and pull-quotes, if not actual Attendance, or protracted reflection. (Never mind that most audiences found the dramas over-long and tendentious, Allusive and dreamy and Largely about colored folks they didn’t know...

Poem: High Culture

Plato wrote about a cave Mr. Wren designed a nave: Would it be so wrong to sing a song Wearing nothing but a bright blue thong? Drama draws the geriatrics Attending matinee theatrics: Could we frankly say about a play It shan’t succeed if they won’t pay? King Tut’s remains have been a hit with...

Poem: Wrestling with Conundrums

If nothing matters as the nihilists insist, why does every slight Every snub Every slip of decorum Sting like brusquely touched sunburned skin? If turn thy other cheek is indeed the best policy, as readers of the good book know, Why does the human heart beat so passionately for revenge and Retribution That one imagines...

Poem: Tumbling Toward Ecstasy

Those dreams in which one falls, Uncontrollably hurtling Toward what seems like certain death, or at the very least Grievous injury, Like a freeway insect making an abstract blotch upon a windshield, Are supposed to mean something. You like to dance to the music of your body Unaware and drowning in bliss, Certain somehow that...

Poem: Consumption

Living here, this stage set of a city, where ersatz glamour trumps Verisimilitude, Where fakery — or as Holden Caulfiield called it, “phony” — gets celebrated Like a two-year-old’s birthday party, One learns to eat or be eaten. The all-you-can-gorge buffet combats the all-they-can-steal machines, Those short-change artists that bleed away your work, Mechanical chiselers...

Poem: Don’t Go

Days not precisely endless — nor even long — trudge past, like defeated soldiers Returning home To pots of consolatory stew and the reassuring embraces of those who know them In victory and failure. The march is like a metronome, And no amount of pleading can make it stop Or falter, even when time ought...

Poem: Blessed

Given the choice between something fabulous and shiny, a talisman of success and power, Or, humbly, The soft gesture of unbidden sublime, I choose the gift of sweetness proffered by the few — the elite — the rare few, Who have found a way, no matter how prickly, To be my friend. When the repetitive...

Poem: Remembered

Even King Richard — the 2nd one, not the mean 3rd one with the hunched back that signaled Disfigurement of character as well as of spine — Even he, a good and noble man In the literal sense, Purchased with his wealth and fame Little more Than a humble plot of earth to lie Forever,...

Poem: Toil

Staring at the back bumper of a finely assembled Japanese sedan, Rolling for miles (and many minutes) in the space that he will occupy Seconds later, when his finely assembled German sedan — The one with the special exhaust package and special wheels, All meant to connote “Special,” although one inherently mistrusts The specialness Of...