Poetry

In the World I’m tired of the high-minded voices I know talking about not being of the world. Like, what does that really mean?  I’m the substance of this known universe. I have dirt under my nails.  I eat from ...
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Take Two And this is why I love film.  No one stutters unless they mean to.  They represent themselves in the best take of all. I am a silent performer.  When I drive down the road, I belt out music ...
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Word Bubbles Travel with me a moment into a place where our thoughts become action.  Yes, this sounds like the introduction to a 60s science fiction series.  Pardon me. There are some ideas I wish to keep secret.  They are ...
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Taming The Beast He found her frozen body on the path he took to prowl. Drawn to her sheer beauty, he dropped his kill and stood in awe. Captivating. Alluring. The sun shown on her diamond glinted face. frost covered ...
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HOW LEAVING HOME WORKS I need highways, infrastructure that can differentiate between the town where I grew up and the place I need to be. And a Ford that’s up to it, getting on but faithful, its leather bucket seats ...
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Most Recent I'm making sure all is still alive.  Checking the pulse of the homepage. Routinely observing to see if the rise and fall of ideas is still in sway. I make the most of this room, circle the table, ...
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Persona non Grata To the not good enough comments, I say, psshhhhhh. That was last week, a hundred years ago.  Easily. I'm flushing, rinsing down the last backwash of badly- formed words. This week is triumph, so don't mind that ...
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Notes Upon Viewing The still-frame, captured eye, I do not ask permission to see.  When I enter the theater, I simply view. The camera takes me where I want to go, high in the air where I have never been.  ...
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The Calendar The sun coughed, scattered itself for a split second into myriad droplets – so divided, poured itself into the central chasm, flattening it to glory, clinching the final resilience of the chasm’s rocks – that reject sediment, so ...
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Poem By SIMON PERCHIK * Louder! though what comes by has already withered and along a certain curve your voice tapers off as the path bent over her shoulders spreading its flow into sunlight now riverbank and whisper –you need ...
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