“Since You Are Gone”

“Since You are Gone” I know my hours stray since you are gone; alone, among the silent clouds each day. I know our separation just as strong as sinking sun grabs night; drowns in its sway. No long forgetfulness is left to thrive. My memory begins when you appear: it stabs the conscience, hard,  since…

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For My Friend, William

Photo by J. Casey “For My Friend, William!” Oh, William, others now have ‘attitude’. Your sonnets broken into Flarf and sent. The Moderns make more humble pie of you and some do call your ‘summer’s day’ a vent! Oh, William, where must soulful poet step: avoidance of all passion voids true love! They know not…

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Day 16, NaPoWriMo

The Ternazelle Ezra declares the Terzanelle too long: poems, Pound says, recall an instant image without the aid of metrics in a song. But life is brief and some it might enrage. Those with a duller wit may need more time. Poems, says Pound, recall an instant image. Some tap their fingers, beating out the…

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“I Was A Weedy Garden, Overgrown”

  “I was a Weedy Garden, overgrown” There comes a time in any gardener’s scope when magic may appear; so unexplained and such a cultivator for my slope; I called him “Mr. Snow”, though not his name. Reminded me of tune from Carousel. I kept my notebook with his accolades. While humming them, his praises…

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