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Continue reading →: Bullet Points
Bullet Points Entry wounds Exit wounds Mooring snapped Mourning wrapped Blood flows Anger grows Boughs break Hearts ache Coherence fades Frustration jades Chambers dressed Triggers pressed Round after round Sound after sound Good or bad Bad or good Misunderstood Misunderstood On our knees Begging please Don’t shoot Don’t shoot Hands…
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Continue reading →: Comb-Over. Father’s Day 2016
My dad was like a father to me. He took me with him to fix my Godmother Ginny’s air conditioner at the Ceramic Shop. He showed me his humble quarters at the Burdick Hotel. I followed him around while he repaired fridges and jammed locks. I recall watching Dad play…
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Continue reading →: Jesus Stooped
No writing on the wall, but a finger in the soil, words scribbled. Their fingers pointed, stones in hand, at the dirty woman. “Faultless ones, start throwing, pitch your fit.” The finger scribe carved words in the sand, and the thuds began. As they lost their…
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Continue reading →: Ars Poetica
One nerve ending, dying from subtlety, strains to tell all the truth, slanted as it were. Ars Poetica. Ars Poetica is a term meaning “The Art of Poetry” or “On the Nature of Poetry”. Early examples of Artes Poeticae by Aristotle and Horace have survived and many other poems…
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Continue reading →: Sunday Psalm
Could this be the end of reason? Is the gun mightier than the sword? Are discussions usurped by polarized rigidity? Shoot now, talk later. Oh reason, have you aged out of the system? Why are we now reverting to loop-wholes and holes through the body? Where are the talking heads…
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Continue reading →: Army Men.
Ever since Christmas I’ve been playing with army men. On a whim, one of my daughters gave me a bag of them, and they are positioned all over my office. There is one duct-taped to the dash of my delivery truck too. Although they represent the ugly facts of war…
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Continue reading →: American Flyers (Haiku condolence)
American Flyers Spokes into pretzels cyclists peddled beyond us White framed ghosts remain Source: American Flyers (Haiku condolence)
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Continue reading →: American Flyers (Haiku condolence)
American Flyers Spokes into pretzels cyclists peddled beyond us White framed ghosts remain
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Continue reading →: When a Headache Alarms Me
I picked the wrong pillow. Yeah, that’s why a pounding headache pulled me out of sleep. I tossed the pillow and fluffed up the one flattened underneath and settled back in. But the pounding like a tom-tom wouldn’t relinquish its rhythm. I laid on one side then the other, and…
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Continue reading →: Before The Apocalypse
Why do You want my attention? The humming bird distracted me. The cupboard, left open, gaped at me. The white noise downpour fascinated me. “Come,” You say, “and I will show you things.” “Just a minute,” I say, “A field mouse. See it?” I have this family to feed,…
Gerald the Writer 