When I don’t go out to talk lunch talk, I stay home and we eat lunch. We don’t talk but we make delicious food noise. I let you play with fruits that stain – cast their color onto our old wooden table. I drop the silver, then pick it up, to […]
Carl Sharpe is a retired English and creative writing teacher who manages a very active online poetry site called VerseWrights. The magic of this site is that it welcomes completely unknown writers, such as myself, into its community of more established poets. Plus, Carl is encouraging and quick to respond. In other words, VerseWrites is nothing […]
The silver blue horizontal slice between the mountains in the picture above is Colombia’s Guatavita Lake, better known as El Dorado. The legend that its bottom is heavy with treasure arose when the conquering Spaniards learned that the then-native Chibchas sunk gold there as an offering to the gods. The actual gold found at Guatavita […]
I am thrilled and grateful that my poem “The Napkin Trick” is part of Toasted Cheese Literary Journal’s December issue. Please visit Toasted Cheese’s site to read my poem and the rest of their great issue. They also run a dynamic blog on WordPress.
The Boston Poetry Magazine published my poem “Dialogue.” Below is an excerpt: Dialogue We start the dialogue hearing the last word close itself /\ first vagina yawn \/ the mood swing is mine, ok, fine every piece of angst pressed again and against — To read more, please click here.
Good things can be found via a well-edited Twitter account. Mine is not one. Per the advice of a few Twiterati friends, I am following back everyone and anyone who will follow me. So, I inevitably follow someone called ‘Bella Swan’ and another called ‘Cupid’s Arrow.’ No offense, but their thing is just not my […]
Because this is the first poem I write on my new computer, I want it to be clean. It will go into a file where a new book of poems will gather over time. Poems that belong to another book will have another file. There will also be a file for poems that are nothing […]
When I am on a plane, and I hear a baby begin to cry, I think: cry, cry, cry. Cry slower and louder. Cry longer. Cry while your mother walks you around so that the entire plane can hear you cry. Stop crying; whimper softly. Make us think you are done, […]
I’ve always loved left overs Cold, by the kitchen sink With dirty fingers and appalled mothers These, though, I will eat alone Sitting up In bed It was a good, unapologetic lay The day we tried To play for good But, it was really only a day One good day […]