Long Cezanne Poems

Thanksgiving, 1971,
a parachute pilgrim approaches Northwest Flight 305
as Dan Cooper, anonymous businessman,  anarchist airborne, 
black suit, black sunglasses, a black tie
and a black briefcase broaching black motives,
Portland to Seattle, prison or criminal pantheon, 
before...

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To the proud parents, Anna and Theo
A serious lad, silent and thorough
A clan of preachers
And dealers of art
From the southern Netherlands came Van Gogh

When sent to school, he did not want to go
The separation led...

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The Artist


I need a Muse.  
Do you think it could be you?
Can you pick up a paint brush 
And show me what you can do?


I need a painter of portraits;
To fill in the gaps...

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A few of my favorite things

A few of my favorite things 

Looking at paintings of Cezanne Rembrandt Van Gogh and Rodin 
thinking of their lives and of their times 
of where and when they painted...

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-- Re:  Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas, Rue de Fleurus #27, Paris --

What would Gertrude. What, Gertrude.What, Gertie?Have thought.Have thought what thought?Thought thought driving,forward,remorselessly.Remorseless Remorse? Forward.Never reverse;no reverse.No.No remorse.
Remorseless,spurning reverse,seated.High!Seated high in Auntie.Then...

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Be ye a temple to thyself,
be plain and simple right off the shelf,

or be a Mayan of long ago, 
a calendar odds that stole the show,

Be here a while and gone the next,
if you have...

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Robert Browning and Me (1)

Imagine me in nineteen ninety-two,
in need of something to ignite the flame:
the London Independent – a review!
The painter Gentileschi – striking name!
(American professor’s brand-new book,
describing how the Roman girl was raped,
and...

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Dust shed from long - gone memories
Old clothes cleared from the corners of dark closets
Cobweb caked, stained over time
(It no longer fits)
(Is this mine?)
(Wait a minute...i remember!)
Orange Happiness. 
Mayfair.
The faded sunshine print on an old...

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*Image of Winslow Homer's 'The Gulf Stream' provided by, The Metropolitan Museum of Art

TrueheARTedness
Poetic Form: Rhyme

Neath lolls the abyss, some monster shifts, ontop heaves mammoth swells --
ship wane toy'ishly, rocked side to side, amidst the...

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Stinky Stan the dustbin man
Was always less than fragrant
The aroma hung like cattle dung
And he looked  like a vagrant
If you saw Stanley at his work
You’d never call him posh
He wore the same clothes everyday
And...

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DESSERT TABLE

Yes, it’s a beautiful spread
A tantalizing sight
With not Cezanne depth or solidity, but
Our hostess’ fond delight

She’s gathered not justs -
Not just cakes, cheeses and fruit
But a famous pot of snowball flowers,
A tall bottle of...

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Hanged man leaving time now to yesterday
A dimmed light a black in the windows bay
No children in garden or Christmas lights next year
Going on to death so leaves us bringing up the rear
Inspired perhaps by...

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CEZANNE STUDY – The House of the Hanged Man

Late Autumn

Buried in a hill,
Steep as descent from humanity,
A country house stands.
It’s late autumn,
Deep, sick autumn –
Deep as the plunging cellar door,
And fronting, its branches stripped, begging...

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With temps and the humidity
No longer off the chart,
We made a visit to the Met*
Since we’ve been starved for art.

A Winslow Homer show would soon
Be packing up and so,
It seemed to be the perfect time
For...

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There are days
when I don't look
for much, just an old chair
on the back porch,
a few thoughts
to pick over, perhaps
a memory to recall and,
to entertain the eye,
splotches of sunlight
to dance around 
a cup of coffee
cooling on...

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I wonder what would the Father of
Modern Art have thought
Could he have seen the work consisting
Of a squiggle and a dot
Hanging in a big museum
Where the viewers hem and haw
And try to tell each other...

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Somewhere beyond the Poplars
A world that is unseen
Full of enchantment
Desire and mystery

Towering to the heavens
These guards stand and wait
Hiding the magic fairies
With all their style and grace

Just beyond the borders
Unicorns and elves
Feed upon the berries
While...

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The light's remembering
is just reflection of its boistrous birth--
each pastel plain laid down recalls 
an echo moment and a liquid sun
at play, for with his brush
he sculpts the earth anew
and sets the theme's array. 

His...

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