Monthly Archives: July 2015

Watering Strawberries

I have a bed of strawberries planted in a bed of too much shade A happy lot by the look of the leaves dotted as they are with white blossoms But the happiest plant bears no fruit sweetness is but … Continue reading

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Out of the Dailiness

My life is an ordinary life not because I had to settle for it not having other options After years of putting out institutional fires I might have chosen to be a consultant I might have built an ark like … Continue reading

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At Day’s End

At day’s end the light takes on that smokey blue haze that is so easy on the eyes but when it runs its course dusky light goes purple the sea & land bend into a shadow Here There the lights … Continue reading

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Talking Heads

It is the season Out come the Talking Heads Politicians & political prognosticators The bitter conservatives convinced as they are the nation is on a fast`track to hell certain of some prescription Fools without finesse Fools without defense is what … Continue reading

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The Failure of Memory

I walk an ancient path through old growth timber most of it now in the shadows with but an occasional clearing where I am bathed with light sunlight during afternoons moonlight at midnight My feet know the way though my … Continue reading

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The Burden of Being

The memory is but history recorded by the unreliable eye a paper reel on the Viewmaster a box of old 8 track tapes The imagination is but fancy scripted by undisciplined hands a catalogue of odd irrationality a symphony for … Continue reading

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Tesseract

Who knows what key today will unlock the magic door – that unseeing of the naked eye containing the day’s mystery – just a wrinkle in time – the tesseract in which the portal of imagination magically opens us to … Continue reading

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Stumbling into Heaven

Sleepless in the darkness I lie physically exhausted                                          watching for the next brilliant flash to ignite the fumes of night … Continue reading

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The Muses

The muses are all silent today       It is July after all       and the humidity is high                                     … Continue reading

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The Art of Cutting Stones

Sitting on a curbside in a ghetto in Bombay the yellow dog & I wondered how we got there & why without even a leash We hadn’t a rupee to our name or passport After two days we ate grass … Continue reading

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Islanders

We are Island people our inner clock set to a time quite different from the mainland where tomorrow means sometime within the next twenty`four hours Here it might not be Monday but sometime by Friday The Island’s speed limit is … Continue reading

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I Am Twins, I Am

  I am twins, I am one brother named hope the other one named fear we live together in one room we break bread from one loaf sip wine of a common cup live together in one skin     … Continue reading

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