Long Buttresses Poems

Standing at the edge of the canyon, 
its crest wreathed in swirling clouds of fog 
the tower looms on the plain, 
incongruous, like blood on a bridal gown.

Zedar has come to investigate. 
As Grand Sovereign...

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Standing at the edge of the canyon, 
its crest wreathed in swirling clouds of fog 
the tower looms on the plain, 
incongruous, like blood on a bridal gown.

Zedar has come to investigate. 
As Grand Sovereign...

Read More

Deep in the woods, nearly three miles back,
far from New York with its tall glass and steel,
on a low ridge that has no proper name,
I stumble on something that feels surreal.

An old-growth forest grove, somehow...

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The grand, half-ruined Parthenon,
once a sublime, Doric grace,
Even now, in broken, stone blocks,
always takes my breath away.
The rich, classical detail,
fluted columns without plinths,
to imagine what it once was,
the mind can’t even begin…

That towering Coliseum,
the great...

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heaven ...
is my prison ...
that dreamy, white tangle of
percale where your
limbs and mine weave sweaty magic -
a moon-daubed canvas of
pyretic passion, public ...
no shut-door, drawn-curtain modesty to
confine or make sacred ...
the danger of chance discovery...

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Synthetic satisfaction derived in the shade
On the edge of the page that defies the sage stage
Where wear and tear declare war to degrade the head
That buttresses my resistance and persistence to engage   ...

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A Propitiation of Blue Tears

On this highway to where the skies bleed blue tears into vases; 
on ornate buttresses they sit and saturate us, 
they cry and douse us,
they contract, expand, release….up from the bowels,...

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A Propitiation of Blue Tears

On this highway to where the skies bleed blue tears into vases; 
on ornate buttresses they sit and saturate us, 
they cry and douse us,
they contract, expand, release….up from the bowels,...

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Beneath the singing glass is a brick tower
where the gargoyles spit raspberries and whistle at passerby
On top cracked stained glass and crumbling masonry
Pigeons roost in its eaves, their feathers snowing on the ground
The clouds pass...

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28 Cracks In The Ceiling


I take my red-inked dagger in hand
And succinctly spew its secrets for all to see.
28 cracks in the ceiling, and I lost count.
There’s a storm moving out of the west.
I can...

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Unbelievable- Paris stopped breathing and even the world,
the cathedral spire shuddered, clung, trembling;
then, plunged burning and the crowd and the world itself,
wept, for the beautiful Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.

Construction of the cathedral began in...

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I reposted this poem because I just ca't get those young boys out of my mind.
What have we lost?  What would the world have become had they lived?  Why have we not learned...

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My Home Is No Fortress

Speechless thoughts flow out as words when the drawbridge is upended 

                   ...

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Beside a babbling brook I browse
By a bridge braving bleak winters breeze
Beaver is busily burrowing beneath 
Before bitter blizzards batter beaver’s bunker
Beaver beavering as he barricades the breach

Bedtime beckons before darkness befalls, but my
Bright my...

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Perhaps I am the privileged one
Perhaps the one who disqualified your vice is one like myself
For after all, if equality is truly to be achieved
We are to see the weaknesses and the strengths 
In the...

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Stone crops flash by me, 
blur of speed 

Flick of wing,turn of beak, 
the hunt is on 
for the prey I seek 

Spears of rock 
are my home 

This magnificent mountain 
strewn with scree 
capped...

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Stone crops flash by me, 
blur of speed 

Flick of wing,turn of beak, 
the hunt is on 
for the prey I seek 

Spears of rock 
are my home 

This magnificent mountain 
strewn with scree 
capped...

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A couple of ruins leave the cathedrals
nave and portico;
it is always molting season,
mice and beetles help
they nibble and gnaw,
wind-laborer’s, labor,
their whiplash backs bent,
to lever slates and all things loosened.

The sanctified, they guard their stony hearts
but...

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Standing for freedom’s supremacy
Legitimately granted to be enjoyed
I am the "Freedom Pub*"
Tenaciously upholding what I believe is lawful
Anchored by the Constitution 
Which strongly buttresses this nation I am part of…

Speaking for humane practices
That exposes unlawful...

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...a prose poem


Standing at the edge of the canyon, 
its crest wreathed in swirling clouds of fog 
the tower looms on the plain, 
incongruous, like blood on a bridal gown.

Zedar has come to investigate. 
As...

Read More

...a prose poem


Standing at the edge of the canyon, 
its crest wreathed in swirling clouds of fog 
the tower looms on the plain, 
incongruous, like blood on a bridal gown.

Zedar has come to investigate. 
As...

Read More

...a prose poem


Standing at the edge of the canyon, 
its crest wreathed in swirling clouds of fog 
the tower looms on the plain, 
incongruous, like blood on a bridal gown.

Zedar has come to investigate. 
As...

Read More

...a prose poem


Standing at the edge of the canyon, 
its crest wreathed in swirling clouds of fog 
the tower looms on the plain, 
incongruous, like blood on a bridal gown.

Zedar has come to investigate. 
As...

Read More

...a prose poem


Standing at the edge of the canyon, 
its crest wreathed in swirling clouds of fog 
the tower looms on the plain, 
incongruous, like blood on a bridal gown.

Zedar has come to investigate. 
As...

Read More

Cronking ravens’ aerobatics 
between rock-pulpits leaning over,
grey disdainful gate-posts.
Our shouts echoed 
as we clambered like ants on a wall,
the lake a far glittering pool
in the dark sunken floor of the world.
On the saddle
buttresses of old...

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