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Since the first ambition I had for publishing was on a platform like this I've listed many efforts over the years. There's nothing to hide. A few I am, if not ashamed of, wary of. "Oh brother, you can do so much better!" But then we are human aren't we. I didn't view poetry as "entertainment" exactly but it has to enact well. That's all I insisted on and I didn't follow any proscribed way


Picturing the Obscure Murder in the Meadow:1857

The Perfect Road

My Ocean


Maturing Poems

Wine Poems

2 New Poems

3 New Poems [anytime you see the Laughing Sun Ball click on it if you want to return to the poetry page.}

1975 - 1989


A Love Ditty

The season, ripe for love, waits now for the coming of youth.

They emerge down the side of a hill and disappear, between rocks, to a boat that is slipped on the embankment of a magical stream.

Their families are against them. The mother wails every evening and calls talk shows to complain about "young people today."


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Sometimes one feels the onslaught of wild spring. Everything is rushing and bumping to the delight of green sprouts and bird cries. Bats come alive. Every woman is a succulent fruit. She stands to be known. Women wild, spring wild, animals wild, cars wild, the sun is a crazy spot somewhere driving the annual wildness.

We start problems, we inherit problems. It's important to distinguish between the two.

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Discovery means upheaval. Upheaval implies danger. Danger is fought with intelligence and solidarity.

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I think this is true: young days are lived with such intensity one thinks of themselves as the poem, as the novel, certainly as the main story. The intensity is thrown over by sheer exhaustion or trouble of one sort of the other and so the intensity Is projected into poem, story, novel. They must assume the intensity that has been lost by the acts of existence that allow us to, in fact, live. I think, in America, it is very important to know both sides, not to choose one or the other too quickly.

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