Poems; February #1


why am I
obligated to find
why was it
from me


Among hollowing bones
Pulling tendons in
foreshortening paths
foreshadowed by the past
I search for a common thread
Made of edible gold

In tenuous suspension
of infinite potential
I trace constellation lines
between stars
that could be galaxies

I believe
I live
wherever it is
that arteries
become veins
Furthest point from the heart
where blood
finds fulfillment
In transformation
and exchange

I seek existence and action
in the capillaries
outermost branches
Where I may deliver the breath
giving color to flesh


A Poem a Day 2016: Summary

One year, three-hundred-some-odd poems (I missed a lot of days), and an incalculable amount of inspiration later, I can say my “A Poem a Day” project is a success which has opened up new avenues of creativity and profoundly changed the way I see life, the world, the human experience.

But I’m not done. There are so many more unpublished poems from this past year that I want to share with everyone: and so I will be revisiting and refining this body of work in the coming months. There is so much more poetry and creative writing I’m eager to create and explore: and so I will continue writing, everyday. There are so many more possibilities of matching poetry with photography and other mediums and seeing how they dance: and so I will try to let the artist in me run about unfettered.

Many thanks to all who have read my work, any of it. And special thanks to those who have given me comments – I always appreciate honest reactions and feedback.


Week 51; A Poem a Day


Everything left
In the light
Will fade
Driftwood will fade
Plastics will fade and break down
Into smaller plastic
Rivers and lakes will fade
Rise & rain
Power lines will fade
The United States of America will fade
Rainbow colored yard signs will fade
Paved streets beginning such a rich black
Gold and white will fade
To gray
Everything in the light
Tends towards gray
Ornaments of cloth
Wax dough
String styrofoam
May fade more slowly
May be preserved
For a few more years
Packed in the attic
In loose fitting boxes
Red algae blooms will fade
Plowed soil overturned earth will fade
Hair feather
Scale shell
Everything fades
Exposed in light
We underestimated the sun
Revered its strength
Praised its benefit
Misunderstood its neutrality
Did our best to profane
Its light
Now everything we have made
Will fade
Though we hold it in the dark
The light will reach it
And it will fade


Week 50; A Poem a Day


Balance, friend.
Still crucial.
Still vital.
Not a static state.
Balance is the action
Of constant adjustment,
Corrections, counter-weighting.
As the terrain changes,
So must your footfalls.
As the situation changes,
So must your choices.
You will never know
Perfect Balance.
Because Perfect Balance
Is a paradoxymoron.
So seek balance, friend,
In the rapid pulse flexing
Of muscle reflexes.
Seek it in the miraculous
Daily chance offerings;
The chances to give of yourself
And receive the gifts of others.
Seek balance,
But never grasp it.