Category: Poetry

Rainforest Alliance

All sales of How To Carry Soup now support the Rainforest Alliance – a meaningful point of connection between the art of poetry and environmental protection. Art matters. Science matters. It matters. “Change the way you carry soup and watch the world open.”

Up the Withalacoochee

Strange, how there’s no money in bending spoons, levitating, walking through walls, eating fire. Stranger still, the mind’s tireless insistence on returning to the same vault of memory:  a woven hammock bleached by the sun, beach glass, the texture of a Van Gogh, metallic… Continue Reading “Up the Withalacoochee”

Stone Lion

The face of the stone lion has turned white due to weather and time, two things I understand very little of, being neither meteorologist nor physicist. I only know that he reminds me of a Celtic warrior about to pick a fight, milky streaks… Continue Reading “Stone Lion”

High Road

Once you have traveled              in the four directions,   along the main thoroughfare,              and spent a good deal of time   on back roads and side roads,              putting one foot in front   of the other until you reach              a… Continue Reading “High Road”

Beginner’s Mind

Beginner’s Mind Spirit of breath and practice, holy mystery of movement and stillness, grant me the discipline to just sit here, though the old fires still burn in me. Grant me the wisdom to remain plainspoken at the doorstep of the mind’s entanglements.  Let… Continue Reading “Beginner’s Mind”

This Light

The Good News

Excerpt from The Good News, a poem from my collection How To Carry Soup (Homebound Publications, 2020).

These Particular Blues

It was one of those days when the movie of your life should have won an Academy award for best screenplay.  The twists and turns knocked everyone out, the plot was as tight as high-end waterproof luggage, and the soundtrack matched how everyone felt… Continue Reading “These Particular Blues”

Dear Diary

You must not complain about dust.  Dust becomes cloud becomes rain becomes forest becomes life, so you must not complain about dust as you wipe it from a table, books, shelves. May there be an empty space in the palm of my hand, where… Continue Reading “Dear Diary”

Now and Again

“Now we return to the lily”

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