letter to William Stafford

letter to William Stafford   Dear Bill, How long’s it been?  Sorry I missed you last time around.  Suppose you’re still writing there, just like you always do, granddaughter or not nibbling at your toes, adoring you, eating your attention just like pie.  Funny how she stole herself into the early dawn, you in your writing time, suddenly [...]

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the rules of poems

the rules of poems try to write in english, if that’s who you are. keep in mind the two ends of this thread. count one two three, yet three one two still amuses me. try to be understood even if it means wagging your tale. eat, sleep, feel cold feel heat, wear two shoes because [...]

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left hand draft

left hand draft learning to write with my left hand   i. does my left hand know what to say if given pen? are there voices in fingers otherwise invisible? but this still feels like right side talking me. don’t quite want letting go. right right right.  insistent it is.  habit or toes like tide? left shy?  no. [...]

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Writer’s meditation

poem for We Write Poems, a prompt (#45) about writing Against the grain! Writer’s meditation Too much sugar. Turn the heater down.  Shoes off. Television is such pleasant distraction. Background obedience! Disrupt perception.  Calm means more than merely no wind. Does the pen have ink? Paper in any pocket? Rain can be excuse. Either way. Wash over [...]

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No sonnet like this

No sonnet like this Beneath a pen your thoughts bubble words, masks changing face, breathing unexpected newfound life but suppose it is only right to ask,      Does it hurt? It is like each book, every poem you have ever read is keeping fresh company to colorwash your  written page   your imagined phrases  brushed  like you [...]

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No poet here

No poet here I am a man who writes poems. That’s fair to say, but not much more. I am a man who wakes, goes to work four or five days a week. Usually. Usually Sunday to church. I do chairs. I eat my dinner at my desk. I like eating but it don’t much [...]

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I wish I was William Stafford

The title of this poem makes me shudder, publicly. But if you were inside my heart, you’d understand. Truth lives inside something other than merely words. It begins, as a statement of gratitude. I wish I was William Stafford i. I wish I was William Stafford. Poems so kin to soil that at his feet, [...]

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Weeds they do

(Just one response to doubt.) Weeds they do Weeds know how to write poetry! They do it every day. Count the leaves. Just try to discourage their seeds! Words pour forth abundance. Identify which is bloom, which is rain. You can fool yourself so easily. What is reinforced, persists. What does not, fades. Early spring [...]

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For my teacher, Dave

Memories, you know, don’t say anything about the past.  What they say is how we hold then now.  Interesting critters.  (Take note of the dedication and RWP article given below.)     For my teacher, Dave   I wore my cowboy hat.  My boots were just ordinary shoes, but I knew better.   I had [...]

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Poems are a piece of cake!

Poems are a piece of cake!     I think I’m a little slow, not that bright. I’ve even forgotten my second line.   And now the third is pressuring me! The dictionary is so full, but not me.   Gimme a break    or a good comma will do. Sleep, sheep, Bo Peep.  Never [...]

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