Friday, May 8, 2015

3 tanka published in Undertow Tanka Review #5


stars spill                  
over the mountain
I spin in the dark
searching for Orion
in a strange place

starlings twirl                         
above the shopping mall
every year
this ancient flyway
mesmerizes me

            
full moon pops                 
above the roofscape
I chase it 
down dark alleys
camera in hand

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

4 more poems from Cleremont: A Childhood In Tanka


merlin                                   
stars shimmering on
his purple robe
I love the runic picture
in that antique book

          Published in Undertow Tanka Review

kids don’t care                      
five steps ahead of me
on bikes
roller skates double dutch
I crash and skin my knees

           Published in Bright Stars #5

Victor Polumbo                         
hides matches in his shoes
braggs about burning
a whole vacant lot
he haunts my dreams

           Published in Bright Stars #5

I run wild                                 
in the cemetery
playing
with my ghost friends
mother calls me “morbid”

              Published in Bright Stars #7





Friday, April 17, 2015

Some Haiku

Some haiku for International Haiku Poetry Day

my hands
scented with oregano
church bells

                 Frog Pond Winter 2013

glass clouds floating in
the heron blue skyscraper
stands on one leg
                  Lexington Haiku Contest - Second Prize

Friday, April 10, 2015

from "Cleremont: A Childhood in Tanka" - published in "Bright Stars" #4


before we                             
knew what sin was
we stole
a bunch of marigolds
sold them on the street


nose pressed                    
into purple irises
tall as I
inhaling sweetness
among the angry bees

Monday, April 6, 2015

Cleremont - pages 6-8 - published in Undertow Tanka Review #5

6
scratchy -  the warp               
of that rose covered rug
on my knees
watching my child reflection
dark in the glass door
7
one night                                   
I am three years old
a magic carpet
sweeps me from my crib
carries me on dark journeys

8
I sit cross legged                       
on that little carpet
flying around
the midnight house
Queen of Shadows

Friday, April 3, 2015

From Cleremont, A Memoir in Tanka - 5 tanka published in Undertow: Winter 2015 and Bright Stars #7


Cleremont

1
psychedelic deep                     
memories of childhood
dream shrouded
startled by huge dark wings
pen dipped in black ink

2
white box houses
row on row of square blocks
street after street
chalk on the sidewalks
kids walk to school

3
Cleremont Avenue                 
where nothing ever happens
under maple trees
my father plants roses
because he loves red

4
Cleremont Avenue                    
enveloped in a tree cloud 
wrapped in tacky boredom
one house like a castle
across the concrete street 

5
we play in the attic             
of the gingerbread castle
hiding in closets
never knowing where
the crooked man lurks

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Monday, March 30, 2015

two tanka published in Atlas Poetica #20


her strong hands
on the potters’ wheel
creating love
red ochre sienna
from the fires of earth

she weaves
constellations
in indigo
meditation of
warp and weft




Sunday, March 29, 2015

Atlas Poetica # 20


cold night
we crash through leaf piles
someone
practicing scales
on a midnight sax


old men stalk
the neon boardwalk
curvy girls
on picture post cards
cotton candy dark


dipped a brush
into the light rainbow
painted stars
all over the street
clouds on every window



Haiga published in hedgerow journal of small poems online


Haiga published in hedgerow a journal of small poems online


Aubade For My Father - Published in Kentucky Review 2014


Aubade For My Father             

you rise in sepia
like sun through empty trees
sycamore ghost

gold words scroll across your aura
I hear them through the camera of your eyes
leather and roses - stained glass and ink

poet who never read poetry
who taught me how to see
the vanishing luminous muse

I echo you back from
borders of namelessness singing
your name in my sleep

when you return
trailing mists of morning
I will know that you are still
a watcher of the dawn