Poetic Transitions
Though this is a poem about Spring, I feel Fall comes with its own new beginnings.
Though this is a poem about Spring, I feel Fall comes with its own new beginnings.
I am in a bathtub filled with tepid bathbombed navy blue water. I’m sick, stuffy nosed, dripping nostrils, packed sinuses The dryer twirls and drags clothes Metal fasteners scratch metal, Fabric thwacking on metal, Tumbling While the washer spins so fast it sounds like a jet engine About to push off, away from the tarmac,… Continue reading The Bathtub
I have been nominated for best publication in the poetic category by Spillwords. The poem is republished below. The link to vote for me is here. Scroll down this page to find “Hyannis Harbor, 2007.” I hate promoting things like this, but I do love writing and Spillwords is such a great place for writers… Continue reading Rock The Vote @Spillwords
I used to hate poetry, but now I write it. Sometimes …sparingly. Some of it has been published on Spillwords.com, some of it remains in notebooks and journals. Most of it I wrote during college. My practice has been growingly irregular due to the need to write blog posts and PR copy. There are… Continue reading I Used To Hate Poetry, But Now I Write It
This is another poem I wrote in high school. I titled it “Front Clasp” because it is the only positive thing that I recall about the three days I spent in the hospital post-operation after a pharyngeal flap surgery completed when I was six years old. The memories of that surgery are disjointed. The poem… Continue reading Poem: Front Clasp
I wrote this poem a long, long time ago. I found a disk of old documents that were on a computer I used in 2002 and 2003. I miss writing poetry. This is not all that great, but it is something. Something will have to do, especially since I have not put fingers to keyboard… Continue reading Slide
I took a trip up to Londonderry, NH for a doctor’s appointment. The house that Robert Frost’s father, William, purchased for him and his first wife, Ilinor is located only 10 minutes away in Derry, NH. It was a working farm which Robert maintained for a few years during the years he lived there between… Continue reading A Trip to Robert Frost Farm
I have not read any poetry in a long while. I heard this poem mentioned during Marc Maron’s podcast where he interviewed, comedian and raconteur, Duncan Trussell. Trussell had just been through a rough year. He was treated for testicular cancer and suffered the loss of his mother. Maron asked how he managed to navigate… Continue reading The Shoelace by Charles Bukowski
Someone posted this on Twitter today. I love it! There are so many lies we tell ourselves that we cannot even keep them straight (“I’m fat.” “My nose is too big.” “My thighs are flabby.”) Moreover, and much worse, we begin to believe those lies and turn to negative influences to… Continue reading You are what you believe…