~ I’ve still more pages! More verse-rhyme to write. Pent-up the Crages Last long into night. The Crages are Rages, Too Crazy to fight. My wage is More Pages! More verse-rhyme to write. Offer me water, Proffer me bread! I’m just a prisoner, Inside my head. My Penance, the Sentence – It’s writing, instead. “Write […] Continue reading
~ I still write on paper, I still use a pen; Made in the Fifties, The Sixties I am. Bless me, sweet Mama, Bless if you can; A turn of the cent’ry, A teenager again. The turn of the cent’ry Is where I now am, But born to the Sixties A Rock-n-Roll Man. My Pop […] Continue reading
~ Another book finished, A much smarter man; Reading the first part, Then jumping to end. Truman Capote, That’s how he would wend Through hundreds of good books, If not a thousand. ~ And when he had finished He claimed that he knew All of the writings Of writers – He knew! Not a close […] Continue reading
~ A squirrel lie unfurled, from end-to-end curled, near a corner, on the sidewalk, by the street. My dog stops to smell, but she cannot tell what chance there befell her, she greets. A small gray squirrel now gone to the world, in soul, but body still keeps. ~ One trick was plenty, the last […] Continue reading
Minor Inceptions ~ The curve, in the road; A wind in the bend; Trees among sidewalks; Homes, without end. These are the few things, Reminding again, That minor inceptions Stay there and then. It all could be different; A difference depends On minor inceptions Of how, where and when. One thing for someone, Remembering, Is […] Continue reading
The leaves of the Maple have fallen by now. All but the few still linger, somehow. Glory! in colors – green, red and orange! I feel I should know them; I don’t, they are foreign. And something as strange as leaves from a tree: A metaphor, Maple, leaves, memory. I knew them only as they […] Continue reading
~ So different this New Man, The Blue Man, These Dragoons of Kearny. I see him – But he, He doesn’t see me! A New Man, This Blue Man, Pale-faced as white sand, A fraction of men, Sent here by Kearny. A Blue van Of New Men, The Blue Man new army. He comes at […] Continue reading
~ Tonight I ate The last ripe tomato, A red cherry ball, The last of the vine. And by consummation Communion made The two of us one thing Of purpose and mind. Simpatico features Of late autumn kind: A cherry tomato, And last on the vine; Both, late and last, On some point in time. […] Continue reading
~ A high school reunion where people trade names and stories of glories, enamors, and days of spent youth, by mistruth – The past is all changed. “But, Mary was hot! Is Mary the same?” I play fool’s dominion and give away not, that Mary and I were close in close ways; but, I went […] Continue reading
~ Awake! At three o’clock in the morning, I’m trying to get my nights and days straight. There’s six hours difference twixt Paris and Corning; A night-light shines on a watch still not set. This low dose of no doze helps to forget; one hour of regress won’t help it a bit: Today will be […] Continue reading
Might well be The last song We sing, From now, Unto Winter, And on Into Spring. No one Can tell me What the morrow Will bring; This much Of learning, I’ve learned If nothing. No one Can foresee What tomorrow May mean. No such Comprehending, Or so thus May seem. What comes Here, and after, […] Continue reading
~ A garden of plenty, best seen by light, sleeps quiet as many all though the night. A lonely cicada makes a great sound, where none but the one is around to be found. A specie of last year, this year, the blight, makes this single creature the sounds made at night. The garden of […] Continue reading
~ I pass by your house, such a lovely estate! Compared to your neighbors, it looks you’ve done great. I’ve looked upon you; we’ve met face to face – Worlds upon worlds, where small worlds encase. Yet, both of us come from different directions – Yours, from a low life; mine, not that […] Continue reading
~ A squirrel lie unfurled, from end-to-end curled, near a corner, on the sidewalk, by the street. My dog stops to smell, but she cannot tell what chance there befell her, she greets. The small gray squirrel now gone to the world, in soul, but body it keeps. One […] Continue reading
so funny is memory of something not there snippets of moments vignettes of what were the murmur of voices no one will hear to recollect faces none now can wear of those who once were and no longer here so funny the memory of places somewhere of that which once was now no longer there […] Continue reading
Tink's ChapBlog ~ Tales of the Tribe. Mythopoeic Verse 