history
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The Ancient Past
The ancient past – 1984 where rolls of copper wire unwound coil in the walls of white gypsum board electric surges and negative potentials sanctify the silicon motherboard a computer beeps and numbers crunch the sun is in the sky the clouds stay far away. Orbiting the Earth Soviets and Americans point lasers at satellites…
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Dr. Eduard Bloch Reminisces About Hitler
“He had such beautiful, expressive eyes within which stirred a profound sadness, so much like his mother’s. She was a kind and dear woman. I treated her for breast cancer. You see, her death left a mark on him, a black mark. The US Army psychologists came to the house as soon as I left…
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National Poetry Month 26 – Steamship
It came belching black smoke down the river The sound of grinding gears and splashing paddle-wheels Scared the horses along its banks. Locomotion on the water sans sail or oar, Fulton smiling through a face of soot. “The damned thing works!” What may have been seen as a minor invention Of little practical importance except…
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National Poetry Month 23 – Translation
I can take two words and transform them into flying birds or sleeping cats or timeless inspiration language makes it possible to interpolate within a sentence another sentence that can change the meaning of a concept or clarify it or make it become something new. Translation can take adelphoi from brotherhood to siblings…
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Amelia Earhart Sees (Elegiac visions of the next world in the depths of the Pacific)
The silver skin of her Electra reflects the setting sun. The twin engines hum, steadfast lift is provided by the wings. The strange invisible waves of the radio beacon fly out across the ocean, far faster than the plane itself. Here among the tiny green islands and endless blue waters are beasts that wait in dark places.…
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The Plunge of Pryce Lewis
“You ever seen a view like this one?” The cold December air holds up snowflakes and then lets them fall gently upon the dome with its lantern lit for ships far from home. The newspapers printing in the basement cause subtle vibrations in the iron railing that my fingers feel as they squeeze and below…
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The Apotheosis of Ray Bradbury
Ray Bradbury is 100! I can still see him, larger than life, when I close my eyes – he has never died. He existed on the planet of his birth for over ninety sweeping orbits of its sun. Transitory was his life, specular, reflective, but also burning with his own light like that sun. Doing…
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National Poetry Month: “Obscured by Clouds”
There was a steady droning in the sky The horizon dimmed by a vast tower of cloud orange and red swirled together, flashes of lightning outlining lumbering sailors in the haze racing through was a silver pill heated and glowing before a strange umbrella unfolded to slow it and appendages emerged to taste the sea…
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National Poetry Month: “Hitler’s Bunker Blues”
Over the Rainbow The gramophone is playing ‘Over the Rainbow’ Judy Garland is singing, turning from sepia tones to full spectrum color in the blink of an eye. The ceiling shakes in syncopation deep within you can hear the machine guns rattling bombs cause the needle to skip out of the finely machined black track of…
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National Poetry Month: “Napoleon I”
The balloon hangs blazing in the sky its modern sorcery attracts the eye like a billboard in a dream singing praise for the new regime Regalia like Charlemagne restored in glory away from pain Here arrive the guests the aristocracy, the Pope in Notre Dame, bereft of rest they put their hope Her stones are…
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National Poetry Month: “Franklin Dies”
He is dead. And bells are rung. Who rings the bell? That upside down bronze cup clanging back and forth. It rings on the hour and for the moments prayers are needed or expected. It rings out in celebration and in sorrow. This thing come free of chains rings freedom for his soul. Mortal once,…
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National Poetry Month: “Marina”
There are things I do not know. I do not know why the waves of the sea brought you to me. I do not know what you are here for. Is it for liberation? Or is it treasure hoards you seek? I do not know why you stand there tall and fair and look upon…
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National Poetry Month: “Bede Time”
Bede prays with folded hands, his tonsured pate shines like a glass goblet in front of a fire. She didn’t quite understand the Latin, but she got the flavor. His love for God was no doubt greater than his love for her. But what could a woman do? I married a monastic philosopher. Finally he…
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National Poetry Month: “Sack”
The barbarians are at the gate – except there are no more gates. The child emperor has failed the Eternal City sitting and playing with his cock while Alaric and his vandals prepare to rob us blind. We are blind. I called for the bishops to meet me here. The great bronze doors opened just…
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National Poetry Month: “Scribe”
I was told that these were dark times. How? I scratch all day long upon my parchment. All day long my hand cramps and burns. I read in the ancient codex I copy about the marble columns that held up the architraves of pagan Greek buildings. Whole treatises on their temples to fallen gods. But…
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National Poetry Month: “Circles”
The crow flies approximately 15 miles from her nest. Her universe is over the land. From here she sees the nature of man. His clusters of huts, the small winding paths between the trees, the smith working bellows to make bright objects to reflect the light of the sun. She sees forests being cut down,…
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National Poetry Month: “Archimedes Talks about Wind”
The elements still stand at four. We’ve exhausted earth. Fire. Water. Now the wind begs for our leash. One can hear it shushing through leaves in tall birch trees. Branches bending gently on a warm evening in Sextilis. Can you feel it on your skin? Conscript the breeze. Make it work like a donkey walking…
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National Poetry Month: “Iron II”
For the eager guard and the staunch commander, in a wooden crate it knows its fate. Rusted, black a blunted point its sits and waits for a human joint. Like hungry chicks tossed some feed the hammer-bearer feels the need. To pound with clank the flattened head into flesh, into bone the heavy nail driven…
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National Poetry Month: “Iron”
As an experiment this year, I am going to write one poem a day in honor of National Poetry Month (many of them may follow a common theme). My first poem is titled “Iron.” The red turns wine-colored upon exposure to the air. The joint’s crack, the marrow leaks, and bruises form. Roman…
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We’re Rushing
We’re rushing headlong to revisit past glories To reconfigure the memories of classical stories Corporations hope comic book characters will replace Zeus or Athena or Hermes – A green monster Now plays Hercules for swooning geeks who Don’t know a damn thing about ancient Greeks. This current batch of heroes is defective They’re all bloated,…
The Numinous Cosmos 