no walls, no guns
Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on January 30, 2019| Leave a Comment »
Posted in Poetry on January 16, 2019| Leave a Comment »
what does god want from me, today?
god has given me today.
i do not know about tomorrow.
Posted in Poetry on September 17, 2018| Leave a Comment »
everything that enters the present moment is impermanent, including suffering. come into this moment with me and watch suffering lose its power. watch it dissolve simply, in the water of your life. can you show me anything that does not pass through the present? i do not see it.
Posted in Poetry on September 17, 2018| Leave a Comment »
when i suffer, i have the opportunity to learn about suffering. to see exactly in what way it is passing through the present moment. and if i can notice how i am also something passing through (the same moment), i think we can be companions instead of adversaries. learning. what?
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on May 17, 2018| Leave a Comment »
it has taken me 50 years to that point when one admits to writing poetry
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on May 14, 2018| Leave a Comment »
when i write a poem i’m hoping to carry the reader through to a silence they’ve never heard before
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on April 29, 2018| Leave a Comment »
poetry is like taking notes in someone else’s handwriting
Posted in Philosophy, Poetry on April 28, 2018| Leave a Comment »
i write poetry to see what life is like in poems
Posted in Poetry on April 15, 2018| Leave a Comment »
to speak is to trust that someone will not kill you with what you say
Posted in Poetry on January 20, 2018| Leave a Comment »
my dialectic
on the one hand i’m a total misanthrope. and why not? humans spread unspeakable cruelty wherever they go, each minute of every day. society attacks early, when the individual is helpless. indeed. and yet, countless tableside conversations have referred themselves to my poems; i love nothing more than to stand on a full street corner with my camera clicking away while i observe all the miniature dramas unfolding there. i become very attached to them and find that i miss them all as they drift apart. though i’ll never see any of them ever again, i can’t think i’ll ever forget them.
odd isn’t it?
metonymy4u 