Posts filed under ‘new poetry’



as i try to recall
your face, i find
only shadows

on a cave’s irregular wall
but as i struggle
‘gainst my binding chains
(and against my blinding beliefs,

(gifted to me by my peers and seniors)
and finally look back
to see the light’s source
i can find nothing.

perhaps it all
was merely illusion

(“…i would have peace,
and a dry crust…”)
I’m consigning this to ‘voices’ although it’s relatively new. I consider it unlikely that I’ll seek publication other than in this venue. Most likely the only way I’d do that would be if someone were to ask me to do so. I consider the likelihood of that exactly equal to the probability of my winning the lottery. I don’t play it.

November 3, 2018 at 7:36 pm Leave a comment

Questions, Scars, and Scraps

Questions, Scars, and Scraps

today there were
seemingly endless
echoes (or perhaps shadows)
of your beauty and grace.

that means, yes,
i too am beneath the Wheel.
the “average” must be
understood from the
beginning to be artifice.

nor can names be used
to analyze their own effect
even from the start.

our reality has been
scarred into us. is it
important that i’ve
forgotten or never knew
my name?

Written some time this year. My fear of getting published actually happened like this; I sent some ‘new’ poetry off to a magazine and it got published. I was again overjoyed. I’d even been paid for it! Then I walked inside the house and found my poetry in the magazine and it was utterly execrable. I hadn’t waited until what I’ve always called the “honeymoon period” was over. Unfortunately that turned into this fear of–near–inability to submit poetry. Questions, scars and scraps–indeed.

Note that in this Brave New World this–blogging something–is deemed publication. Which means that collecting my poetry would be somewhat laborious. Perhaps fortunately, no one has ever requested a copy.

October 27, 2018 at 5:27 pm Leave a comment

simulated images


written 8/31/17

simulated images

caught within a moment
–its recollection, should i say?–
i once again remember you…

but then i realize
all that memory
is quite wordless.

we met, and parted.
and now to my shock i find
i cannot even remember your face




I generally just let poetry sit for a while–hopefully a long while.  I am quite error-prone at times; deliberation before shattering silence is always wise.  A young friend of mine was over not long ago, and I told him I was a writer and a poet.  “But I’m sure you don’t read poetry.”  That was a true misjudgment; he read the poem and understood it immediately and was caught in his own memory, obviously similar to the memory that produced the poem.  Time not only passes quickly, it erodes all with its passage.









September 22, 2017 at 4:52 pm Leave a comment

Book of Sayings (On Truth)


Book of Sayings (3)

about names and thought*

today there are hurried motions
in no direction, though
that sullen half-silence turns
quickly to rage if even slightly

no speech;
the crowd grumbles and snarls
wordlessly; it does not name

but without names it cannot speak
nor therefore think. has
it somehow cast me out?

i wonder for a moment.
then i realize again
my namelessness
*or, when i learned to speak
i forgot all truth




It’s possible I’m re-posting this.  This is very much about what’s happening now.  It was written with a view to now.  And it was written and typed on…the 27th of January, this year.

September 13, 2017 at 2:54 pm Leave a comment

about avoiding speech

shared silences

i wonder if you think
you’ve robbed me of my words.

you gave me something precious:
knowledge, and my only thanks

can be silent.
i used you as an augury.

i thought to have no choice.
the echo you may await can never come.

i have
you see

achieved, in that tiny matter

it is complete.



The relationship to the mentioned hexagram is via a rather different interpretation, incorporating 24.  This poem is about the writer committing an error by not attempting to act with ‘firm correctness’.  It is also a very dour picture of the future, but then this is merely a story. One hopes.

April 3, 2017 at 12:13 am Leave a comment

Two Studies

imaged reflections

delayed cascades
of shattered moments
eye-blurred                lens-caught
form fractal expressions
of beauty, made
by the shaping of near-molten metal,
are many forms of speech.


the image is of a smith at his (her) trade, hammering almost liquid metal


inflected experience*

the fragments of you i remember
i know are (half? mostly?)
certainly part self-perception

it is
like seeking true reflection
in the scattered bits
of a shattered mirror


frantically seeking that mirror’s repair
symbol of my longlost soul
or your clear remembrance
(no matter the foreknown pain, i

struggle to recapture
that searing moment
that our meeting was

but as i struggle
to collect those fragments
somehow they cut free, and i bleed
once again
remembering you.


These are both ‘studies’ in the sense that they are exercises of a kind–experiments might I suppose might be a better word–in styles and in one mixing of an experimental style I basically abandoned with my ‘normal’ style.  If there is a distinctive difference in much of my poetry and writing and general it probably results from the usage of more than one viewpoint or perspective.

*This in particular is a purely conceptual poem, the image created by a shattered mirror’s reflections (and the attempt to suggest that the apparent distortion may lend a kind of truth that may not be entirely specious). [There is also an echo of
‘sun on bright water
narcissus, shattered
by a pebble’
which was my landmark poem in that it represented a definitive step into my own style without any hint of apology.  Since I deliberately employed Grecian mythology in the poem to the extent that it is meaningless without its knowledge, it was a fairly brazen act.  I lived with and amongst Christian Reformed people–Calvinists, who abhorred idolatry.  But then my book report for the class for baptism was on Ship of Fools…  I couldn’t resist and no one called me on it.  In retrospect I still can’t believe it.  I’ll leave it to the reader to find out which particular book I mean, with the hint that popular literature was just beginning.

March 24, 2017 at 5:17 pm Leave a comment

samwise agonistes

on memory and other fruitless agonies
samwise agonistes

i see your trace
on my soul’s walls
like a baby’s footprint
set in concrete, lasting
and quite meaningless,
a lesson in time itself


just so
as i scrub with all my might
to remove that stain
you remain,
and your shadow fills my sight.

*‟agonistes‟ is “someone in the grip of inner conflict‟ and samwise the so-named self is certainly born of that (courtesy Chambers as portrayed by WordWeb Pro not cross-checked with ancient Lesser Oxford English because I’m old, lazy, arrogant and I did know it was a word though the meaning can be slightly more complex and/or complicated.


More precisely it is about the acquisition and cataloguing of values (or meanings, if there is a difference); thus it is in the realm of social psychology, indeed.

March 18, 2017 at 12:46 am Leave a comment

on transfiction

On transfiction

paused within a moment’s
transfixing, transficting* gaze

i am wordless, caught
by a pure concept

its crystalline, momentary
refractions, reflections

that leave no trace
trans formed** to fiction
indeed [how odd you call them facts!]


*transfiction; the transformation of reality into its representation, which is then taken as real (as in reality; it is of course real because it serves a function, is used and thus must obviously exist; questioning the amount of connection between a representation and the ‘real’ is quite a different matter–see Law and Justice).
** Not a typo, thankee kindly. And ‘thankee’ predates the Oxford Dictionary. I daresay out of usage.  It was used after the establishment of The Dictionary, mind you, as well.


This might also be taken to be an attempt at definition of an active process in human society.  Then again, it might not.


Final note, this isn’t McLuhan’s ‘factoids’ construction, which is media-wise the same principle in basis.



March 2, 2017 at 9:22 pm Leave a comment

sayings 6

Sayings (6) (of selective blindness)

should one seek actions
before words
or think that words define knowledge*
there is grave error.  much blame.

vision is obstructed, most
of all from the sides@. the path
wanders. liars shout of truth#
and attempt to lead.

escape comes only from
the fall of towers^. if their cities fall
all must die who know only
of life within them.

if one pauses,
seeking silence, wisdom
and firm correctness
there may be no blame.
* knowledge that binds, binds only seeing not being.
@the obstructed vision is foiled by assumptions and defeats peripheral visions; the path made by the half-blind wanders.
#and they always shall
^”freedom” comes from escaping the cities but many cannot and survive.

February 13, 2017 at 3:03 pm Leave a comment

sayings (4)



Sayings (4):  a part is wordless

–synergy in action


unnamed empty eyes

echoing sourceless

(voice-seeming) sounds,,

deserted worn rooms

marks of time past/passed


shifting sands sift.

a child scribbles runes,

a seagull cries, caught

far inland.


only patient waiting

and reflection is wise.

sudden departure without return

comes without warning; all

must be abandoned.


the sign is this;

two dogs fighting

over a dry bone

An instant’s vision and three weeks to write, to very roughly approximate. This net (language) is simply strung wrong.

February 5, 2017 at 11:10 pm Leave a comment

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