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Kiss from God
A small shiny insect crawled methodically across
the clean, white sheet of paper,
trying to crawl across before I stained it
with my useless words.
So arrogant and...
LATEST ARTICLES
and right now
a little Tibetan boy tends to his yak.
what is
more alive than this boy,
the fire from his cheeks,
the snow bed mountain behind him.
this...
Not to dart along. Stilled. Here.
A life painted on. Dry docked.
No shoal, no fleet. Alone.
Not line caught. Scales of grain crack.
Unworked, unworking. Stopped. Stopped.
The...
Great news! If you’d like to publish my work,
my submission window is now open
and will stay open until the cows come home.
There is no...
The air is a velvet rope, coiled tight ’round my chest.
Breath unspools silver wire, threading ribs,
tugging my spine toward a fluorescent stage.
Copper lingers on...
Tiny, claustrophobic room,
stained Hopi carpet,
folded-up prayer rugs,
assorted scriptures,
brass band in the distance.
Sign:
NO Alcohol
NO Incense Sticks
NO Cell Phones.
Grey steel
lectern,
3 whole-tree-trunk
benches.
In the classroom-style door,
a small, square,
twisted...
Her look was warm as summer dawn,
there was a lightness as she stepped
as if the ground was almost a cloud,
her beauty a casual dream...
I do not have the memory that some do, more often flashes, images, clip shots, waves, feelings. They come on the outbreath.
When I walk...
shadows migrate towards the fence-line
with its shredded plastic fluttering
like the rage of those denied escape
they are the formless ones faceless familiars
hidden in vaguely remembered conversations
who...
when the ghost in the basement
won’t stop wailing i want ouuuut!
& you holler right back
don’t we aaaall, my friend!
the dog at...
A gypsy moth mistakes
the incandescence
from a bulb
in the porch ceiling
as a sextant moon.
I watch from the rocker
slugg’n liquor from a jar
in the inescapable heat
appreciating...
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Artist's Note: A watercolor about how we're embedded in our world. 11"x14". Paints and pencils on gessoed matboard, a surface that makes it easy...
There,
on the back lawn -
once pure powder,
now crusty and gray,
a lone holdout
from a forgotten season.
I know, I know,
I say
as molecules disperse
one by one
into the...
I have a pesky feeling
there is a poem hiding
from me like a child
waiting to jump out
from behind the curtains
to surprise me, to give me
a...
What is this graveyard but where we came
with our papers and stubs of charcoal,
to catch the image of their names
and dates,...
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Abstract Expressionism, 21 cm × 29 cm, On Paper
Material: Acrylic, Gouache
A bible, a dictionary, a book by Rimbaud,
some magazines on the floor,
bottles in the fridge and
a bottle in my hand.
I read what comes in...
Where did you go, Ronni, Calli? I remember you,
on a dark street years from here,
your dad’s chevy slowly rolling
by the bungalow of a dark-eyed boy
we...
how do you know
when you’re dead
I would expect
someone pokes you
maybe with a stick say
excuse me sir
but your rotting carcass
is starting to smell
why not just...
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When my time comes
just flush my ashes
down the toilet
I told them
and they were shocked
poor dears!
taking me so literally!
not all at once
I explained
just one scoop...
Shepherded by bad luck,
you fall through a mirror
once you have it,
or rather it has you.
Even if you survive
{or at least they kindly
keep your body...
it’s a threesome.I look around at the ceiling
the plants
my iced tea sitting on the coffee table.I micro-dosed
(there’s no other away).an echo of lovely moans
is...
log in - forget your password?
. . . no one gets to rest on the structure
no one ever forgets their first agreement with pain
or...
I broke up with the world.
We both saw it coming long and slow
as the drifting of continents,
and then came the sorting -
I gathered my...
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I am the son of a coffin maker; death will have no surprises for me.
This was my life: Rise before birds open their eyes,
smooth...
driving through Iowa will make you cry
all rolling plains, windmills, tractors,
rooms of old radios,
ex-girlfriends
That make us feel as if we’ve been
punched in the stomach, bludgeoned
over the head, had our arms ripped off,
our toes plucked out, skulls smashed
with...
I picture accidents all the time.
All the time.
On the way to Stop & Shop
at that new intersection.
Slipping on the smallest
puddle on a dry sidewalk.
The...
I don’t understand the desert
the considered staging of stones
the rise and fall of trails
the suspicious critters ogling us
from all those holes
in the dirt
But most...
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All gone, wandering beyond
valley brambles, slate
splintering like overworn bone.
Today is for pine smoke pulled taut
around half-horned fog
melting beneath canopy light
where short, shallow graves
shelter my...
We shot this in early 2024 and Finished it this past Fall. I wrote and directed it with Max Cox.
Isaac’s show is called The...
Rattling across a rocky trail just after sunrise
having hiked up and down Pilot Knob
950 feet elevation
one mile
straight up
my temple
to you
gone three years
and the dog...
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Great cities hold their rivers and their jazz in high regard,
trust secrets to the cattail-covered caves along the bank;
it’s miles beneath the drummer’s glistening...
You can spend all your time making money
You can spend all your love making time
The Eagles, 1975
Maybe you remember
the drawings at breakfast:
a hippo yawning,
a...
Stretches out his
loveliness of fur
legs linger long
leaning earthward
pees
languorously
Eyes soften
as pee
empties him
He is emptiness,
floating within consciousness
towards what comes next
Pain, joy, suffering,
which I have aspired to
without...
I. That Ain’t FedEx
It a was dull morning in H-Town,
where the sun rose slow as molasses
and the coffee from Greasy Joe’s tasted like regret.
Benny sat...
An empty house across the street,
snow-capped, mid-renovation;
daffodils waiting underground
with honey and fire;
strands of festive lights
held over like a beloved play.
Somewhere,
a buck standing by a...
#1. Stephen's island wren 1895. Watercolor. 9" x 9".
Also known as the Lyall’s wren, the Stephen’s island wren (Xenicus lyalli) was a bird endemic...
the editor demands,
and asks if it serves
understanding to
undermine gravity
and fling the beast into
a star shot sky.
If this is a dream ploy,
it's been done and...
When all the sadnesses want to leave
on the same day that’s a lot of traffic
and uniforms and all that have never
been my bag so there’s...
After lying awake half the night,
trying to meditate and visualize
a successful job interview
leading to an actual job;
after holding completely still, imagining colors
and trying to...
I give a tight hug to myself
and kiss myself on the forehead.
I cry unstoppably
and then wipe my tears.
I don't miss you.
I record words, "Everything...
Abstract Expressionism. 21 x 29 cm. Acrylic, Gouache on paper.
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2.
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3.
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Dilly Darnickle stunk like forbidden streets
walked a little funny
had a herniated testicle
wouldn’t say which
lucky he still had two he said
one's always bigger and better...
Of course I don't
remember the poem,
but in the fourth grade
I knew it was a lie
I was being forced
to read aloud and
when I finished
and looked...
oh, how my heart flies
in this harvest sky
oh, how my heart settles
in the soft tan grass
i love this...
the sound of gravel under my sneakers
the cat sneezes
cigarette butts
who cares
I’m outta sync
I’m a dapper monster
the quiet blank of days passing
I’m sick of you...
maybe he’s taken up tray planting
snipping tiny bits to shape his bonsai
placing the pre-grown moss around its base
perhaps he will focus more on his...
In a field off
Hungerford Road back
in the 1950’s Mum
almost lost an arm
after being thrown by her horse
and trampled.
Every path I take in
this town runs...
What if that gold tipping over
tops of twilight trees
is love on its way
home to rest and I am
not yet ready?
out here on the lough all movement is vertical
wind and tide and endless sculling
keeping the shore beads constant
no passion is productive in the water
not...
I knew if I died first
I would not
have to bury
or cremate you.
So it came to pass.
No tears.
I cry at funerals
but not at my own.
Things...
poor as an old penny
laying against the dumpster
the stray cats and me
under the rusty moonlight
We, the ones with high numbers,
outrank nearly everything and everyone these days,
even though it’s not in our best interest
given the pending shortages of
affordable resources...
leaves fall
dance and pirouette
through pale late fall skies
land on the brown lawn
quiver and die.
I drink coffee
laced with good bourbon
on the front porch
I take a...
Snowed in
& out
the window
I watched a robin
flit branch to branch
pecking on frozen bark
& listening
a rustle
in my skull
a memory
of something
forgotten
& too late
I hit my head
with...
His fingers—spindly, delicate as a spider’s legs—
dart among the gears,
tools clink in whispers, sharp and sure.
He bends close, breath fogging the polished brass,
eyes fixed...
Daisy was above trickery
no shake-a-paw nonsense for us
no tit for tat
her fetch was gloriously one way
neither of us the alpha type
we just frolicked
careless with...
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Acrylic on canvas. 16"x20".
Ferbo Dunkling
on his walk with Koda
thought of a hopeful
future where Cyborgs
are environmentally conscious
Zombies are conversant
and he wins the lottery
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So, I’m not dead yet.
While my shelf life still remains a mystery
I bought a funeral of sorts --
a cremation party:
old Rock and Roll in...
there is a duty to repair beautiful things
like people silence traumatised dogs and planets
to fill the jagged tree-lines of their fractures
with gold from the sun and...
what will happen
if I don’t
write poems
never again
no wars will be waged
no peace will be broken
no justice will linger
no ocean will drain
only a poem
will be...
World of clinking coins and silent wails,
where sidewalks hum with the soft crush of heels,
everyone steps to their own dirge, unaware.
Oh, the tragic absurdity:
Mr....
The Importance of Being EarnestPencil, graphic ink pen, Kuretake Bimoji Fude brush pen, black permanent ink, ink brush on Yasutomo Japanese ivory-tone Rice...
after Goya’s Capricho No. 43
In the Siberian tundra of mind
the sentinel permafrost of reason
is thawing in these torrid times
of online lies and rising oxycodone...
I dug a hole three times as deep
as last time. You get better at these things.
Dead things. You say,
'it’s the last time,' but it...
When I turn the screw on the device
nipple clamps
your lips pull clear of teeth
it takes years to decipher the puzzle tree
its spindles — not...
this feels like the divorce
i was spared
my parents too exhausted
.......by life
............to split
i should pack up my words now
to save something
of who i’ve been
but...
on the dock
looking out over the water
dreaming
meandering thoughts
my easy steps across the wood
that when it creaked
told me secrets
little ripples and reveries
coming in
that I’ve forgotten
what...
This is our second Artist Postcard, featuring Jillian Sarette Li!
Dear Vacuum.This channel is glad you exist.
Together we wait.The new sailor just got back.Fuck I loathe a society that accepts advertisement.And there’s something wrong...
you are
a lovely whirlwind
spinning
just some energy
locked
in this lost, forgotten
sediment
recording. all the dances
car crashes
bus drivers, dishwashers.dust plankton cosmic
drunken
standup
philosophers
https://soundcloud.com/sherry-170780609/trinity-park
S E V E N B E L L S
They are studying homelessness at the high school, that’s what the kid said, as if...
Forty-Fives
A Story in Interconnected Flash
-1-
Ada’s skin was caramel and her hair so black it looked blue. She was tiny with shoulder blades like wire...
how it gleams under show lights—
chrome shimmered once like this,
but not after '67, when my brother drove it
through siege, shot-out glass,
powder-burned rims
riddle-marked at Texas...
after Charlie Haden’s, “First Song”
No one remembers the first song
sung to them in mother’s whisper.
The words, merely notes to soothe
the savage beast at her...
When I die
The ferns ‘ll go on
And the fish in the sea
Slivers of dawn
And once I was a Fisherman’s wife
Couldn’t talk
Couldn’t speak
And I liked...
Watercolor and Micron pen .5, 6" X 9"
A cloudless sulfur butterfly (probably Phoebis sennae) caught in mid-flight on a warm November day using my Nikon D3200 camera in continuous shooting mode.
a touch of red
suggested at dinner, to make
a photograph splendid, i noticed
the same in paintings at exhibition.
looking out, the grave yard, noticed
a touch of...
I finally accomplished my dream
of becoming an online mythical character
who flew her flags
among her kind of heroes and heroines,
the other ones who understood
the meaning...
the white tail-end of thanksgiving
is feathered over the farm
three feet deep
& the gray hand of god
pushes downward.
ghosts of children
slip through the cracks
of the barn...
Look
I’d like to help you
and it’s time
I’ve put money
in the account
you say you never had one
Look
the credit card
I made you tear up
I still get...
"Sorry. Sorry. Last bloke I stood on I
broke his toe. Sorry. Got his own back
with a bit of this." Shakes his bunched five
the bus lurches...
at first I was pissed
when the cat
knocked over the Christmas tree
then I was delighted
our cat basically said
fuck the stress of pageantry
and living up to...
Christmas morning,
sunlight creeping in like a landlord
knocking for rent.
stocking caps hung limp,
empty as a politician’s promise.
the tree stood bare,
no gifts, no mess,
just me and...
It wasn't always this way
it used to be
when bad guys always lost
and paid for their sins
there were cowboy heroes
and stars and stripes
when boys and...
From 1984–1987, I published the little magazine Clock Radio. Like many small ("little") literary magazines of the day, this one was produced on a shoestring,...
along the stream that fell from clouds
he came upon
a pile
of bones
recognized
the glaze
and angles
as his own
kicked them
in the creaming
beck
no use
for them
without
a head
going upstream
beside
the gambling goose
where...
No chance for love poems now.
Maybe we'll find another way to say it.
I'll be so glad when it's over,
when he finally allows it all...
Henry: This is a world where everybody’s gotta do something. Y’know, somebody laid down this rule that everybody’s gotta do something, they gotta be...
My daughter says
she’s been called
to sing some high song,
some choral song,
at some high mass,
at some cathedral,
somewhere in Detroit.
“I can’t eat now,” she says.
“Not tonight.
Not...
no leaves left
on the trees
I get to look deep
into the woods now
The first time I was called a poet, I took offense,
for poetry is good for nothing: it neither
makes love nor wages war, nor pays...
Do not tell me you are dying.
I am an empathetic soul
& a part of me
will begin dying, too.
Tell me, instead, your soul
is leaving to...
I work (slave) at a dollar store
they put the Christmas shit out
in fucking August
instead of a star there should be a dollar sign
on top...
The slow and sullen wind that lingers
in the corners of my room, compact,
brooding, breathes in, breathes out,
sighs and shifts, rises, falls,
gives up, gives in,...
cold in here when I woke
opened the doors to the woodstove
cold ashes, not even one glowing ember -
I piled in kindling
and wood on top...
The soldiers woke us at 5 a.m.,
a bullhorn announcing we had
an hour to pack our belongings
& leave. 200 years we’ve lived
in this glade, subsisting on...
the roads here are winding, the leaves are changing.
best not to bang the teapot down on serving, best
to tell the truth.
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while silken streams
of white carnations
down my legs fell
into a delicate web
a blood spot formed
on a blackened moon
you slid off me
on a three legged stool
you...
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Glen Banvie Trail on the Blair Castle Estate, Scotland. October, 2024.
I dreamt I was a kelp forest swaying in pitch-
-black waters. Above me moonlight fluttered
like confetti and seagulls roosted on cliff-sides
and buoys. An oil...
Hawk skirls overhead,
red berries bloom like blood against
the shadowed wood.
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Crow quill pen and ink on Strathmore illustration board. Illustration from the book, "Did Adam...
In twenty twenty-eight,
light narrows, ink falls silent in the streets.
Words shaved of edges, poetry a lost shape,
a forgotten voice in fog.
But Hosokawa Yusai knew...
I like tools.
I like spatulas.
I like good shoes
and Kikkoman soy sauce.
I like the thing
that fixes that
other thing and
the other thing
that fixes that.
I like tape dispensers
and...
For many fine men,
words like bitch,
or pussy—
sit heavy on the tongue,
emitted like a toxin
if ever uttered.
They would rather
default to tired,
or angry for
the perceived irrationality;
and...
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Charcoal pencil drawing by Pat Perrin from the novel, The Jamais Vu Papers, by Wim Coleman and Pat Perrin. Harmony Books/Crown (1991). After publication,...
I was seven when an aneurism grew like a rotten berry inside Mother’s brain and burst. Everyone said, at least her suffering is over, the...
inside them still
the blue sky, still the dream
of brave, and strong, and free.
All you didn’t say
in these birds with endless softness
with nothing
to uphold, nothing
to...
they peeled him back,
those priests,
hands slick with oils,
dropped his heart
in a jar like an olive.
wrapped him tight,
packed him for eternity—
knives, chariot,
songs he’d need
to reach...
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Graphic ink pen, permanent coloured ink, ink brush, watercolours, and some printed elements on Yasutomo Rice Paper .. 77cm x 44cm. Text added via...
from the Sermon at the Crossroads
Blessed are those who know there to be no blessings
for they shall hear the music of...
As a child I believed no machine
could hurt you, that even the big
crushing ones would stop, would
have to stop, heads bowed, hats
removed, as the...
In your absence,
fall came anyway.
Leaves turned ruddy and gold,
began their wuthering dance,
fluttered down like leaflets
as they've always done.
I wore your new jacket
as I gathered...
leaves are rusting
cars are rusting
I wake up in the mornings
cursing the frost
and missing the warmth of Dixie
I hate the cold
I say
my wife and I...
~
i won't write a poem about it
it's cool you do but i can't
in my childhood town
after each new tragedy
kids navigated for position
for how we...
I told this to a waiter taking my drink order.
“I don’t drink when I’m sober.”
He stared at me for a long moment.
“So, when do...
Bare feet dock-dangling down,
memories morning-cleansed
in gentle lakewater.
Loons warble back and forth,
one zooms under me
at supernatural speed.
A boy casts out, reels in
a small sunny.
As it...
Folks said my father was a drunk and a no-good bastard, but we marched behind him with maracas and rhythm sticks shaking our little...
The seawall whispers the voices of the drowned,
their words curling into the fog, sticky with salt and secrets.
From the mist, she emerges—
a girl in...
bay breeze froth
and the barmaid’s pretty nails
I’ll never feel their caress
it’s another Saturday night
at the sports bar
jukebox playing
the soundtrack to
hell
I shuffle my thoughts
like playing...
the leaves are not vain
about falling
sunlight on the edge of each one
Original music video. Written, performed, and produced by the author.
To view, click on the arrow in the center
Lyrics shown below
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0ucg8Y9Q1Y&t=1s
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Lyrics to the video
Hello two...
This will surely be TMI for you, but yesterday I had a very bad day.
I won’t bore you with the details of which, since...
there's a teenage, fentanyl
addicted
cowboy, sprawled out
on the floor
of the #4 to downtown LA
tasseled, rawhide
leather jacket
hatchet
Howard Hawks face
fist clenching the reins
of a crushed, empty Miller...
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Pen and Ink. 10" X 12".
the way he still chases you in dreams,
his dead brother,
then stares into blankness
when he wakes.
i want to dive into his dog dreams
run with him...
I have a Portuguese granddaughter, Clara,
who insists that only grandad
can read books to her over the phone.
Our favourite and our best books
are Charlie and...
put down
way up north
for the locals
he walks it daily
too old to drive
recalls rolling
his Schwinn across
a black olive top
and now, how aging
has worn the surface
down...
When they bought expensive tickets
for a cruise on the Flying Dutchman
they didn’t know they wouldn’t be going home again.
But they were a rugged and resourceful...
We walk beneath a fettled roof of leaves,
Where beasts maraud and insects form a line.
The trail of many bones & lost beliefs
Becomes the route...
When you have run out of outrage;
when every day is a loaded gun
and your hand is not on the trigger;
when you have given all...
(Scroll to bottom to hear the poet read this poem)
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She hovers behind the bar,
not standing but floating, her feet barely grazing
the sticky floor,
a ghost...
May the words in my head
and the meditations I create
in my over-active brain
and practice with good intentions
as I push my asthmatic breath in and...
… Old Baucis is by old Philemon seen
Sprouting with sudden leaves of spritely green:
Old Baucis look’d where old Philemon stood,
And saw his lengthen’d arms a sprouting wood …
...
a neat balance of the grip that pulls
and the calloused hands that push
around we go — the natural cohesion
holding us in place
our eyes accustomed...
so we move forward differently once again.
.while you remain in mind.
We make no bones,
it was the sea that held its breath
and deferred to you, our mother. You,
who set aside the rancor of tides
and gathered...
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Gliding along the surface of the pond,
two wood ducks land and split the water
into knives of movement, rippling out
in broken lines and interference patterns;
the...
Elliot Biggs stood at the door of the bank,
the check, crumpled—his thumb pressed hard to the ink,
ten years gone in a breathless sigh,
dull eyes...
Watercolour and acrylic paints on Ampersand Aquabord .. 33.8cm x 33.8cm
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2. Watercolour and acrylic paints on Ampersand Aquabord .. 21cm x 40cm
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3. Watercolour...
For frantic boast and foolish word—
Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!
—Rudyard Kipling
The City on the Hill is turning out its lights
and closing up for...
I had forgotten how to fly.
There was a small dark owl with me
On the old dirt road by the wind.
It was a very dark...
I scrubbed out my asshole today
it’s clean and shiny
hell, I might even get it bleached
it could use it
after 46 years of life
it’s dealt with...
I had an impulse to throw my cup of water
at their electrical switching network
but I knew they'd fire me if I did
so I didn't,...
When you can’t afford
to renew the lease on your grave
and your hollowed-out carcass
has nowhere else to die the rest of its death
do not forget
your...
Let none admire
That riches grow in Hell: that soil may...
Daddy's home, dog, you can take that dump
in the middle of the floor now. And cat,
please, a hairball would be nice. Kitchen sink
—my life...
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Oil on Wood. 12" x 16".
I'm undercover
listening to owls
a blue heron flies downriver
the rain almost silent
The hollow clatter,
fork to plate, rings—
a sound misplaced.
Empty halls devour voices
that once stood firm,
laughter now foreign
as wind to the walls.
Half the rooms sit cold,
chairs...
Clay Logo 1.
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Clay Logo 2.
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Man-Eating Art 1: We Will Eat You
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Man-Eating Art 2: Tastes Funny
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Man-Eating Art 3: ALAS
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Man-Eating Art 4: Not Eaten
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Grapevine
*******
Abstract 24 - 1
Mixed Media, Impact Adhesive, acrylic paint, black ink, ink brush, graphic ink pen, white ink, System 3 Screenprinting acrylic ink, Permaset...
i can’t find all my friends today
where they live inside my phone
but i pray they find the blankets
i am sending
~
there’s a holy woman in...
She finds her way down the hillside in the late night dark, making no use of a flashlight habitually held in one hand. If...
You may think it inconsequential that an empty
tube of toothpaste is not, if pressed, empty,
but has more to give of itself. You may prefer
odes...
Bukowski's Bluebird
and Psalm 139;
Starbucks
and hardhats,
badges
and faux bouquets;
healing gardens
and prayer circles;
a shiny pink balloon
in an atrium's skylight;
a young resident
in blue scrubs,
keys jangling
on her hip;
red aviation...
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Oil and Gold Leaf on Canvas, 105 cm x 105 cm
The Earth calls to me,
gravity tugging like an old chain
I’ve forgotten how to break—
her blue belly swollen, thick with storms.
My ship falls from heaven,
the...
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Watercolor. 6" x 8".
Mom packed
all week,
folding and putting
clothes in suitcases,
wrapping keepsakes
in newspaper,
setting boxes
in the hallway,
Dad kicking them
as he went by.
“You’re not going
anywhere,” he said.
“Just put it all...
When I was nineteen, lost, alone,
depraved and often raving from
the lack of food and meaning,
walking the streets for days
on end after dropping out
of college...
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Oil on canvas. 90 cm x 90 cm.
We’re told it’s only been unleashed one time
by a lone fanatical guerrilla sent
by some silent foreign power. People talk
about him all the time, but most don’t...
"Seat open?" I asked the guy sitting next to an empty stool at this small town's local hangout.
"Yup! You're welcome to it!" he, smiling.
"Thanks!"...
And the rain that didn't fall today
would have sounded like other rain,
each note both random and precise.
And the wind that didn't blow today
would have...
I shall live by the ocean and walk a sandy shore.
And there shall I find a long boardwalk
with benches worn rough, and toddlers
dripping ice...
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Take care driving over The Gap.
Emboldened by night, deer emerge
from the grim wood to graze the verge
between the black trees and blacktop.
A mountain tableau,...
In the low-lit juke where blues crawl thick—
thick as gospel, thick as grit—
Big Mama sits, hands heavy on the frets of time,
plucking the black...
A tune plays on the radio, a jazz-funk fusion
with a title that sounds like a dire prediction.
One apocalypse or another is always coming.
Cold water...
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Oil on canvas. 30cm X 40cm. Winner, People's Choice Award at the "History Presents Future" exhibition, The Open Gallery, Halifax, UK (September, 2024).
The question becomes
...
When I was a child, the word most often applied to me was shy. Not true. I simply enjoyed watching. Everything. Every night, I would...
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Artist's Note: Linen and cotton yarns, handmade paper, river stones, bone beads, on a wrapped tree branch, 48” wide x 41”high x 16” deep. My...
I’ve read the story a dozen times
and seen the movie versions
as many times
or more
and still
when Santiago
pulls the huge fish
alongside
the sharks always come
and eat his...
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Oils on linen. 30cm x 40cm.
My brain scan came back
electronically, without commentary.
I expected an intake of breath
a frame by frame affirmation,
an attached graphic to explain
these pyrotechnic nighttime
symphonic explosions, a...
years ago
a mysterious spore
germinated in his basement
under a rug he had swept fine dust
the sibylline flat white fungi
are communion wafers
each the body of the...
Click on Arrow in Red Box to Listen. Music composition, Performance, Lyrics, and Production by Matt Dennison.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BF6fU4EOOpk
There goes Mr Prichard Morris
down to the shed to take his kine
out on the hills, to Garn Ddu
the black rock. He says the grass
up...
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Artist's Note: charcoal pencil on paper. 8" x 8". I don't do a lot of freestanding drawing or painting, most of my work is...
O, rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more.
...
Rumi says we can bang on a musical instrument first thing in
the morning to fight
our emptiness
I like to blend a fruity elixir and smack...
tomorrow
i'm gonna carry a casket
the body of a kid I once raced
in a long ago summer
in San Jose
high school
had closed up
for a hot breath
summertime
and...
________________________________________________________________________
We cannot go with you this time
All-consuming night
has swallowed the solemn moon
So hightide and wave retire
and the piano charms with regret
in the reed beds
and...
Now this is a special kind of nowhere.
Its midpoint even, a place equidistant
from North and South, somewhere
neither desert nor tundra.
The beige walk here, eat...
I want to get better at silence,
to entertain it as some do angels,
to rescue it like grains of salt
on paths beneath the soles of...
You moved on before giving notice.
I got lost in the smoke and mirrors
and barely noticed the empty hours,
and you always had such good answers.
Now,...
Angles about him sensed, the first,
the free web presents, and he waits.
No, of course he does not wait, he
simply is: spider, small beyond time,
so small...
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Watercolor on 140 lb. watercolor paper, 7.5"' X 9.25"
Once you sell your horses
you’re never the same.
That’s not necessarily true,
just an attempt to say
the unsayable as loud
as the wounded frog
roaring across the valley
from...
Martha was dying. Her doctor knew it, her husband, David, knew it, and me being her caregiver, knew it too. The only one who...
You know, selfies aren’t for us.
We’re old, but I grow younger
instantly when I run into you.
We stop and share tea
at The Campus Cafe
as...
m `zo came to me
with pieces of things she'd done
she said We can put some in the river,
some under the trees
and some on top of...
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A
sweat
bee is
cleaning its
antenna in the
morning sun while a butterfly
is flexing its wings, like lungs (like bellows), waiting for
just the right current of wind to...
https://soundcloud.com/rc-james/sweet-summer-rain
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A light rain turned the alleyway into a slow blues
dusk settled in but didn't make me sad
I took a few dance steps through the...
We crossed the Ohio at Wheeling, ducked
past the tourist trappings of the Steel City
like two outlaws, made our Hollywood
escape, determined to get as far...
Spry creatures of the daytime,
actions seek their resting point
at the bottom of the funnel,
a fall,
a drop
a break in the surface below.
I came here to...
My Japanese maples
were revived,
a girl's chalk heart
was dissolved in a courtyard,
a hero was given a chance
to cry in secret,
a harried nurse's coffee
was diluted,
the air...
EXPLORE
After You’ve Gone: Horses and Cigarettes
She calls to me across the pasture.
Over here, I answer.
Grasses shrink
from her big yellow teeth
as she approaches—
weeds don’t know
a mare's gentleness.
And I still miss...
