this is the moment it falls into place a minute more later a moment’s erased in time by time the second replaced the first in the quest to next be displaced that was a moment the time and the space dormant one moment the next one posthaste the moment one foments the next one effaced […] Continue reading →
~ By Sixty-Seven Things would be different. Enter the picture, Of marginal man. By Sixty-Eight It was too late, To ever go back There again. The difference, Appearance; A difference, Began. Many’s the moon, In the end. ~ Ed was a cousin, Ed was a friend; We never saw Edward Ever again. One decade long […] Continue reading →
…. The Duke City’s known corruption, as shown Coronado, and his host of new men. The Old Ones knew too, the Wind as it blew the Sun West to East and then send into the darkness, the wile of the night, the room for a moon and the stars in to light and bring into […] Continue reading →
Tales of the Tribe http://wp.me/p102ON-E6 Synopsis: Society creates the stories it tells itself: factual, specious, apocryphal, dishonest; by any rendition, according to Wallace Stevens, will still be a fiction. Myth wears the clothes of its culture, will always be a social fact, and those who would eschew these basic facets of humanity, will prove […] Continue reading →
An abstract journey through concrete Americana with a lagniappe through the “Great Discussion.” From serious humor to light-hearted gravitas, this is a trip you need to enjoy. Poetic postcards of Americana will be provided for. Our trip commences upon your arrival at Union Station, and continues until we arrive at a Paradigm Shift – […] Continue reading →
~ Out! Out! Out with the rain! a man and a dog traverses. The water rolls off, and more follows down, falling to fill up more spaces. Cur! Cur! both dog and man! They curry to each other’s favor. One leads the way, the other one follows, slogging through weather, together. None! None! there’s no […] Continue reading →
~ a neighbor spends hours each day of the week shifting through flowers a garden she keeps and when days turn rainy the days dark and deep she goes deep inside but outside she weeps she can’t be with gardens in flowers she seeks but stays in her house where otherwise sleeps where neighbors are […] Continue reading →
~ Each piece, a poem; the leaf of a tree – The common connection, poetry. Caedmon began his in England; where no one at such time should know him. O Sappho, of Lesbos, what be thy fame? Shards of gray glass antiquity claims? Ideas hold fast; when all comes to pass, nothing holds past, all […] Continue reading →
©2016, Marvin L Welborn 22 April 2016. Revised 23 Apr 16.
~ Autumn falls fast, when it springs into Winter, whilst all along Winter is getting warmed up. ~ And all of this happens so plentifully fast, which augments the feelings of a life moving past. – So fast! Too fast! Is it time moving passed? – All of these feelings of failing and falling, that appear […] Continue reading →
…. And now, I am done! I’m way past my Prime. Whatever was, happened – All now lost thru Time. All that which was given, striven, made mine – Time hath re-taken. Time takes its Time. Time, Great Time – Is this thy design? For […] Continue reading →
Sometimes I go out, my fly, wide open; most times, I won’t catch it, at all! ~ perhaps, it’s a stretch of old imagination, or hoping, it’s a Freudian Slip – not Fall. ~ But aging is different, by old and tired bodies; raging Young archetypes spring forth and then fall. ~ And a […] Continue reading →
~ The bearded ladies suddenly swoon and one by one, they break into bloom. And all, by mid-May days! The late ones in June. It’s then these late ladies come to subsume all the late babies of first spring, at noon. Then later, the one-eyed- Susans assume, by which time the ladies have lost all […] 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 →
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