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Poetry

The Pruning and Other Poems

The Pruning Deadhead the ground where petals lay, not the blossomed branch, rivered & riveted this garden, this square of pear & pine. Unlock the pruning knife, cut the roses back to thorn, back to distel, to angled light. Be frugal, light-handed, bent shrubs are rain-heavy, grit-weary, saddled with the days of May’s cloud weeping. This June cuts back to essential bone, the boughs watered & wounded. Fold your knees before the muted ground, listen to the...

My Magnificat

In the Marian month of October Magnificent madness My savage spirit you stunned Bones leap out to dance Something inside You touched and exploded Unleashing the torrent of one hundred springs That rush to embrace The vineyards lost in my memory     O blessed be Walls you have broken down Oppressors you pinned to...

SHARK WALL KEY

(Or Triste at the Santa Barbara Sea Center) Maybe it was the quiet desperation of the     sea horse, holding on to a spine of sea grass  inside a cobalt blue aquarium that brought it on. Or perhaps the distressed Stingray flicking  a missing tail, as the frantic hands...

FOUR POEMS FOR 2024

Philippines, Proposed Addendum to Definition of noun : a stream that cuts through districts or fields of grass : an enclosure of water (see Badjao or Aquarian) : a subterranean wanting : a recollection of faces : a great and significant number, just below innumerable but above sufficient : parable,...

A Farmer’s Memory

The neighbors say he suffers from dementia. On the balcony, he stares at the cloudless sky. How he declares the stars have turned into tubers of motley shapes and colors! He asks if he could fish some and trade them for a gantang of rice. Perhaps the copious harvest at...

Sunset Boulder

Random and I find our landscape a chore. Every day we push this sunset up a hill then see it roll down. Random knows. She has joined the sunset. His Wawa, adding to the weight of the grey boulder of fading light. I now know why it was the colors she feared. Sunsets everywhere in big cities and small towns. People...

Random Pickings

TWO POEMS

KUNG FU POEM You killed my master In syllables two seconds out of synch with the lips,while a crooked finger points back to himself, vengeance smoldering in...

Retrograde

The force of fate couldn’t fight for us.Venus showed me the way to youjust as I pointed her and the Moonfor you to gaze.He...

Old letters

Did we not, as children, let the seasons pour from our bosoms- artlessly, as buds bringing to light. Colors   I painted words in pristine tonality. The subject watered by...

Pause for a Moment

The summits of the Pride Mountains are so high that they could not be conquered. Glorious to the eyes but tiresome to caring hearts. And the trails to...