Friday, December 09, 2005

More Poetry...

Need I say more?

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Lost Touch

Closer than touch.
Our remaining dialect
Breathes loud meaning,
If not content,
Or contentment at its limits.
Conversation denied.
The banal suddenly profound.
The profound,
Overtaken by extremity.
I miss you already.

(June 2002)

In My Eyes

Have you ever noticed?
The light of one candle
Bathes a room,
So completely,
Until its gone.
Smoke lingers.
Catching at my throat,
Tearing at my eyes,
The smoke, I mean.

June 2002

Tuesday, December 06, 2005


Today I installed a shelf.

Three shelves to be precise.

Measuring and drilling were involved.

All three shelves are level.

Behold, ye who doubt the Almighty God!

Friday, December 02, 2005

Friday Poetry

Following a less than applauded entrance into the world of the prosaic...


Is it absolute?
This absence of truth, absolute,
Which seems to drive truth-seekers
Toward a relative absolutism.

Supermarket beliefs.
Pack your own.
No checkout control.
Pay as you exit.

Childhood injunctions demand in memory,
"Tell the truth!"
Our mothers would say
Before my truth
Became the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
A greater dishonesty is now preferred.

The truth is, I'm one of those:
A fanatic.
Truth does that to a person.