Long Rheumatic Poems

Why do we feel increasingly difficult conflicts
create strong-rooted energy?

And depressingly BusinessAsUsual
penetrated 
exhumed
exhausted
extracted
distracted by runaway toxic chaos?

Yesterday,
on my way to a deep rooted tree and shrub nursery
half-way across Connecticut's Route 1 made-over shoreline
my youngest NativeAmerican RightBrain...

Read More

I was born the eighth among nine siblings .One sister Gladyss Darlene ,seven years older ,died after five days from a condition she would have probably survived had she been born in the hospital.I have...

Read More

You think not of life, but of the moon:
still and white.  August wind chimes
like sweet bones sound a tune
of twenty-three; the somber age
when you will die
and summer turns another page.

Each capsule is a sparrow
downed...

Read More

I’ll never forget what’s her name
A PE teacher and ogre she became
For I was such a sickly child
it really made this ogre wild
Held in my hand a medical certificate 
exempted from all things physical
with Rheumatic...

Read More

Herd-mongers, schoolmarms and glorious twats
Piloting leased arks through drenched parking lots
Cadillacs cleansed of a fine week’s debris
Just in time for the polish of sanctimony

A river of swine, like the Jordan, it crosses
Over deserts of disheartened...

Read More

What I Love About Spring

At the astronomical vernal equinox
Appears the first signs of spring.
A new breath of life
When winter’s snow completes its ageing.
I love the yellow daffodils
And the perfumed aroma
 Of white and yellow freesias
Along...

Read More

as Las Vegas blood pours on Manchester in droplets the shape of poker chips scattered, dropped by a God laughing all the way to the bank

when the lattice streets, corners and cobbles and bridges of...

Read More

I realized COVID-19 called for a lengthy isolation, 
I stocked my cupboard and went into self-imposed quarantine 
Confined with no visitors provides little consolation. 

I realized what older sister went through at seventeen 
When she...

Read More

I am the native of interface between this world and the other
Living presently in my shrine at the Roman baths at Bath in UK
People used to throw coins into me because of my sanctity
But no...

Read More

her spine that musical instrument
I strummed plucking sounds chords and tones
in axis, the toothed vertebra
she turned her head saying she knew
everything I know she didn't know
about heathen nights and their shifting moons
or all jesus christs...

Read More

Dying Trades

The stone mason

he was old now
his hands unsteady.
The eyesight fading.
in winter he worked
inside his barn.
it could let the rheumatic
cool down to let him work
for an hour or more.
His grandfather had
apprenticed his father.
and he had...

Read More

To rent a room, do you know how much I pay
Without social security and bank statement
It is more than I earn for cutting grass and hay
More than can build a new apartment
For this one is...

Read More

The Challenger and Columbia are gone
And you alone of the trinity
Awaits the end to dawn
Not far to go
Old crate,
Not far
At all.

The old rheumatic wires still delay
The flapless wings
A little leakage of some fluid there
A little...

Read More

I am the native of interface between this world and the other
Living presently in my shrine at the Roman baths at Bath in UK
People used to throw coins into me because of my sanctity
But no...

Read More

She is aware of distance,
a distance that replaces smooth with wrinkle,
that adds weight to where it once fell away,
a distance as controllable as a storm, as time itself.

It feels likes a rope thinning,
each frayed line...

Read More

We sit on chairs in the hall, one, two, three.
Two sisters, Pat and Trudy and me, one, two, three.
Mom, with her big purse sits across in dread.
the two girls needed their tonsils removed

I tease Pat...

Read More

 Quiet on the streets absolute 
Rheumatic seats of invisible solitude naked feet
Walking the streets I am at all I am
All that what's going on what goes on is so obsolete
Baring roads so barren the...

Read More

I.


Silver apple of the moon
Laying prostrate on the lake

Silver apple of the moon
Smooth, un-moved, unmarred by wake

Lean down, finger
The bright skin –
It peels. Linger,
A flicker of flocking moths congeals within.


II.


An old maternal willow
With rheumatic roots
Leans...

Read More

I'm not sure what she's using 
though I have an idea
her body she's abusing
and her mind has anaemia
as the excuses drip off her tongue
as to why she can't call
not the first to be sung
not the...

Read More

we don't know why we wake up this way,
feeling that something is wrong,
feeling late,
as if it had already passed the time 
to commit our crimes
and it was too late to go to the balcony
to dry...

Read More

Laughter will hunger for your mouth
On mornings that break ominous, 
Though the cold shoulder from above 
Shoves from view all that’s luminous. 

When breezes wheeze, die in your hair, 
Laughter will hunger for your mouth....

Read More

I walk the ground where we used to tread
and the roses bloomed in spring;
I walk the ground where the skies rained down 
and the Lord of Death was king.
I walk the ground where the ashes...

Read More

A small beautiful spring flower
Wood anemone, only seven to twenty centimeters long
An adorable little lady with white dress and yellow hair
A beauty for the eye you can not deny
A star blanket you will enjoy

That it...

Read More