Tag Archives: mystic

morning poem, April 8, 2016

.   Layers of cloud Brush strokes, grey and white Roll above the distant spires of the city These buildings, touching the heavens Must be the work of giants Creatures who once walked the Earth Who imagined great things And … Continue reading

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morning poem, february 18, 2016

  How to Write A Poem Open your hands And lift them high into the air Breathe in, breathe out. Listen What flashes across consciousness? Grab it now, before it fades Write it down, don’t be afraid. A fragment here, … Continue reading

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morning poem, January 14, 2015

    The winter sunlight bright on the water White riverboats resting at their docks Amplify the morning light, clean and clear Shining, Vermeer-like and silent On the mirror surface   Copyright 2015

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morning poem, january 8, 2015

    White smoke rises from the chimney And fades into the white sky. There is no horizon and no clear lines All is as if inside a cloud As if in a dream. Only the whisper of the rain … Continue reading

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morning poem, December 16, 2015

‘   White rain falls The horizon disappears in fog. Rainslick blackbirds duck their heads And cling to rainblack branches Swaying in the wind.   One bird, his colors muted By the dark afternoon, by the drowning rain Launches from a … Continue reading

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afternoon poem, november 30, 2015

.     The rain-darkened streets the sky a vague mist spindly oak branches black wet even the wind is non-commital Weak gusts, this way, now that. . And yet the leaves on the crab apple are orange and red … Continue reading

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afternoon poem, september 29, 2015

‘ VOICES IN THE RAIN . The rain comes today at a steep angle Stiff lines of it White and constant, as if it is not obeying gravity But some assigned purpose and aim. As if it is coming not out … Continue reading

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A New Story

His mother and father had talked about the move for several months.   The company where his father worked had been bought by another company and it looked to him like his job would be eliminated or transferred to Houston, Texas. … Continue reading

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Morning Poem, August 18, 2014

Late Night   Sleepless at one-thirty I rise and open a window for a draught of real air. It is silent outside, I’ve outlasted even the crickets and cicadas. Street lamps, one near and one far make crosses of light … Continue reading

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The Characteristics of Modern Poets #12

The mystic, having once seen the truth, is patient and brave.  For him, there is no worship of counterfeit gold and no fear of counterfeit power.

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