~ Old men at sixty, forget more each year; but once when much younger, a world, a frontier, old men at sixty were, too, cavalier. Now old men at sixty they forget why they’re here. Old friends get harder to remember, revere, as memory grows flinty, the past, unclear, old men at sixty […] Continue reading
. . ~ The fine Tookie Doodle or a Sweet Sippie Lee will at one time have been where they once used to be – ~ When the Kit and Caboodle’s all past history, ~ and all that uncounted from Eternity, ~ hits the wall and that’s all that it will ever be, […] Continue reading
…and then she will ask me, to say something nice – there’s something, I’m certain, should surely suffice. My mind dashes back through slivers of time – To memory moments, sliced by design, and think of, ponder, give over to wander though time in the mind, is always together. Birds of one feather – a […] Continue reading
. So much depends on something or other; But, Oh! How memory falters. . A Barrow all busted, the Wheel gone and rusted, it now sits across from an all-night diner. . And so this poem, as it begins, then it just ends – like another, with water that glazes. . Both poems, on things; […] Continue reading
~ I am so angry with present-day poetry, in poetry passing review. ~ When reading the poets of present-day poetry, I’m flummoxed, bewildered, bemused. ~ No rhyme, nor meter; no beating with time. No accentual syllabic to be found in the Line. ~ But then that’s the freedom of Art for Art’s sake in present-day […] Continue reading
~ Awake! Awake! No longer asleep. ~ Awake! from a long night of feverish fit. ~ My head just kept spinning, my body a heap. ~ Awake! from a long dream I had just had. ~ The lines couldn’t last, and words wouldn’t keep. ~ Awake! from a nightmare that was driving me mad. ~ […] Continue reading
Poetry Lessons From Seaview ~ “Surely you can write a shitty first draft! That’s all we’re asking of you.” ~ Writing assignments from a poetry workshop, on the coast of New Jersey, “Seaview.” ~ Four days in all – readings, critiques, and writing reviews – for those […] Continue reading
~ It froze first night of winter weather, the rain and sleet and snow; where dark of night would change to ice, from sleet, first rain then snow. ~ And when the winds all blew together the ice began to splice; and all around was heard the sound of crackling and breaking of ice. ~ […] Continue reading
One day, mid-day, maybe noon, not before, there came a loud crashing and thrashing at door. I was resting from reading an old poem of Poe’s, and I’d just laid back when I started to doze. The noise now awoke me, and my senses still slow, a flutter then flapping, would stop and then go. […] Continue reading
~ There’s plenty potential, much less, actual; but there’s more to eventual arise. Becoming and Being, two ends of Been, comes once and is never again. Idiosyncratic, would seem to be magic, but there’s more in the mix that is ken. Uniqueness to fitness to which one must witness is the dance, […] Continue reading
~ A marbled morning sunrise at five, and I want to know, who sculptured this? Is Michelangelo still working on ceilings? after all those years? ~ A small ‘’tweet’‘ comes, from close overhead; followed by ‘’squawks’‘ in the distance. ~ Two birds. Two birds. There are only two birds; when only two, what then, is the […] Continue reading
a New Mexico fabliau, on Chauceran scale….. ~ This is a tale with two separate endings. It’s in media res where our story’s beginning, for where does a story really begin, but after the facts are recounted again. Life’s like a stream — it flows and it surges, before it then changes; and […] Continue reading
~ The canyon walls so do enthrall, the heights are so impressive; ~ these canyons call great wherewithals, from man’s great flights of fancy. ~ On Sundays, bare, there’s no one there; yet, still it fels expressive. ~ A paper cup that someone’s dropped retains the single vestige ~ immaterial, though ethereal – an abstract […] Continue reading
~ A pencil in hand, I stand, I am a man of the Twentieth Century. I don’t understand your culture, your land; though, it must be rich, this sudden switch, but I know it just can’t be penury. ~ We talk the same talk – or we do somewhat – but your penchants […] Continue reading
~ A silence abounds when we make our rounds, for my two dogs and I on our walks. ~ There are houses with spouses, with singles, and what-not’s. They don’t wave, they won’t smile, much less will they talk. ~ This silence astounds on these daily done rounds, it’s the sound of a safe distance […] Continue reading
Tink's ChapBlog ~ Tales of the Tribe. Mythopoeic Verse 