Kill the Critic

Killing the Inner Critic
You can’t do that!
          I hear far back in my head.
Poetry is serious stuff!
          It is my voice, when I’m dry.
You must be deliberate!
          Best ignored.
Where’s your rhyme scheme?
          Can’t speak—only scream.
No wonder nobody’ll publish you!
          Narrow and hostile, too.
Poetry doesn’t work like that!
          Protective of something sacred.
Don’t you have [...]

Moonman

 
She is Captive of the Moon
Who is this man in the moon? I owe him
grief for the grief he’s inflicted on me;
my precious Azure I lost to him. She,
in quicksilver beauty bathed as though
blushing moonlight herself, was taken
by him, made captive of the moon.
I gaze up each night to see her there,
bound in ropes that [...]

Dragon Sport

Sporting with Dragons
Saint George I never was, nor archangel
Michael with his awesome sword and spear;
nevertheless, in imagination I stand before
that gory-headed beast with his seven
crowns and carrion breath, spouting noxious
vomits of brimstone and death, and I stand
with pen in hand, no sword, no spear nor lance,
and write heroes to slay with guile and wit
what I’ve [...]

Frustrated Writer

Novelist
He blames the Beatles
wants to be a paperback writer
but the stories don’t suggest
themselves, don’t flow from
some deep well of inspiration.
 
He writes silly poems
on anything that comes to mind
but he loathes rhyme
and eschews abstraction
so they all go unpublished.
 
He works, slave to a desk
forty-four hours each week
and dreams himself a novelist
though his only published work
is on post [...]

Speculative Poem

Eve’s Bitter Harvest
Bring me my broadsword
and clear understanding
Bring me my cross of gold
as a talisman!
—Ian Anderson (Jethro Tull, “Broadsword”)
 
Her Highness, Eve, Queen of Vallandria,
bade the longships sail, bade them sail by day,
bade them sail by night, bade them sail away
to brighter lands of warmer climes, bade them
sail to sunset, for better harvests, for
greater crops and [...]

For Sam (ST Coleridge)

Damn Sam!
No man was ever yet a great poet,
without being at the same time a profound philosopher.
For poetry is the blossom and the fragrance
of all human knowledge,
human thoughts, human passions, emotions, language.
—Samuel Taylor Coleridge
 
Today I fathom only the shallows
slippery eels, here no profound fishes of wisdom
philosophies only of compost
and the odd croaker warning of frost [...]

Sisyphus Eating an Elephant . . .

More than I Can Chew
Ever my tendency
to set too high
arbitrary bars
to challenge myself
to excel—myself
 
I walk in Sisyphus’ footsteps
walk in Sisyphus’ footsteps
in Sisyphus’ footsteps
Sisyphus’ footsteps
footsteps
steps
 
It comes to this—
one
step
at
a
time . . .
 
Journey of a thousand miles
one
     step
          at
               a
                    time
Eat an elephant
one bite at a time
lest it be
more than I can chew.
 
And this bottle
is the best [...]

Narcissus to Echo (on a Waterhouse painting)

 
I Hear Your Beauty in My Reflection
Oh Echo, Echo, my beloved Echo,
what fell god damned me to this contemplation,
what terrible fate, my fascination
with that wonderful-evil image, wet woe
over which my head hangs. Oh sweet, sweet Echo,
I hear your song, your forlorn cry—obsession
dear and heinous as my own. What illusion,
this slipping life, rooted in glamour’s woe.
Nevertheless, [...]

Patriarch Patina

Oh Father that I am Not
Oh yes. I stand here fists on hips, adamant
and demanding. But within, I am the turmoil
inside Vesuvius. Friction among want and will,
wish and compassion, judgement and forgiveness
broil within my gut to dam my visceral reason
and beg pity for one move false and foolish . . .
Cannot love overshadow this fell [...]

First Fire

We Charge Ahead
Sword high, arcs low
head rolls
first martyr
revolution
commences
Yet—
our pens are more
mighty than swords
We sling ink
to enrich life
not to end
aught
but to re-
create
Life
vibrant
and well-
lived