Truth

I see an image
made of dust.
This is something
I cannot trust.
But what of broadswords
that are thrust?
Soon their valor
turns to rust.

I see an image
made of dust.
This is something
I cannot trust.
But what of broadswords
that are thrust?
Soon their valor
turns to rust.
Written in 1983. Wastepaper basket filled to the brim with wads of fresh, new paper. Desk cluttered with paper, ink and pencils. A slumped figure snores over a sheet of paper. The words “Once upon a time . . .” are scribbled out on the top line. Looking closer at the wads in the basket,…
I just found this yesterday. It is the beginnings of a poem I wrote while sitting in a waiting room, feeling anxious. It was written sometime in late November, early December of 2011. The music in the waiting room is filled with anticipation, like the sound track of a video game on a constant loop….
Fly toward the light on wings of hope and despair your strength takes you there To enter the January 2008 Art Inspired Contest, just post your entry in a comment. Originally posted on 52 Haiku
Written in 1984, this is another expression of my grief of losing my grandmother. Loss. A missing piece of the puzzle. A knot in the throat. A Demon in the gut. An unfulfilled need. A missing. A not there. A silent scream. Anger. Grief. Deprivement. A barrier to cross some day Yet crossed by another…
Written the summer of 1984 in reaction to losing my Grandmother. I found out just before leaving for the airport to be an exchange student in England. By the time I returned 9 weeks later, everyone else had had a chance to attend the funeral, find closure and move on. I hadn’t. It took me…
This is one of my earliest successful speeches. I competed in several High School competitions, often earning a fifth-place certificate. My father helped me with the cadence and rhythm, but the writing and research are all mine. Later, after the Loma Prieta quake (which I got to experience first hand), I updated it and used…