Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Day 23: Tasting the Peach

Happy Birthday William Shakespeare.  Happy name day RGB.  Today we celebrated in style, under water, at spa castle.  Spring cleaning body, mind, apartment.  This is a poem about the male gaze...


Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Day 22: Butterback Fly

There are certain experiences I return to often.  One of the most pleasurable is swimming, emotions falling off me left for the water to transform.  This poem is about the high of the water, that powerful, centering life sustaining escape.


Monday, April 21, 2014

Day 21: Triolet # 1

I am late off the mark today but what a glorious day it was.  Spring cleaning, walking down the high line with treasured friends, ice cream and potato chips, need I say more.  I wrote this poem a few days ago in the style of a triolet, a classic seventh century form first popularized by a French benedictine monk.  How to live, how to be like god, how to create...


Sunday, April 20, 2014

Day 20: Ptoems and Pterodactyls

Happy Easter.  Season of Spring.  Fertility.  Rebirth.  Paint those eggs or better yet, hatch them.  This is a poem about the power of stories to save us, in the most unlikely places, from the most unlikely people.


Saturday, April 19, 2014

Day 19: Purpose

Yesterday was a long day of creative work, all of which I enjoyed, on several different projects, in several different roles and now the sockets of my brain have burnt out.  This poem may be backward or inside out, I am not sure how to rest the little mind and hear things afresh.  I will go swimming and stop writing and thinking even though I want to continue working on ideas and plans and schemes and plots.  The part of the body I focus on becomes a complete meglomaniac unable to share time  and yet and yet all signs point to a day off from the mind, immediately, beginning after I post this poem.

This short poem is about purpose in a life, in particular, in the life of a flowering branch fallen from a tree.


Friday, April 18, 2014

Day 18: The Cabbie's Eyes

Cab Drivers.  Taxis.  New York City. Our patron saints.  Our mascots.  Our habit.  This is a poem about a cab driver not wearing his glasses.


Thursday, April 17, 2014

Day 17: How to Entertain

Have you invited a friend over and need to tidy up?  Wouldn't the best thing just to be as you are?  No?  Well, try this...