Friday, December 10, 2010

Three More Published

Apropos Literary Journal has just posted their inaugural online edition. Three of my poems are featured in the issue. Please check them out!

Street Corner Blues
River Song

Sunday, November 14, 2010

"Yakov's Stairs" Published

My poem "Yakov's Stairs" is now published in Issue 9 of Caper Literary Journal. Check it out here.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

"The Parson's Confession" published

My poem "The Parson's Confession" now appears on page 63 of the September 2010 edition of Eclectic Flash Literary Journal. Click on the link to access the online edition. You can order the print edition by accessing the following link: 

You can also listen to me reading my poem on the Voices Page.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Making Love published by Vox Poetica

Please check out the Vox Poetica link below. Note: I originally posted a link that did not work. Below is the corrected link! Sorry about any confusion!

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

To Notice For The First Time

I watched him unobserved in full view
as five bare toes, slightly spread, felt
their way to explore below the chair on which
his belly laid. He played in the room
of vinyl and steel, of strangers and sounds: a waiting
place, not knowing what he was waiting for
(both years of his life). All he knew was taste
and touch, smell and sound. And now another
sense was just in reach of those five





Two days later he sat straight up with eyes
wide open in wonder: to a brand new world
filled with shadow, shade, light and radiance.

April Poem A Day prompt: "To (blank)...:

Thursday, June 3, 2010


I am called, today.
The sun lights your kindness in the sky.
I praise you, my Father
and lift your name on high.
Your mercy and your love
lights the hope within my eye—
O holy One
O blessed Son

You are the One who gives
the sunshine and the darkness in my life.
But even in the night-time
I know I cannot hide
from your mercy and your grace
and the care that you provide.
The life you give:
a gift to live.

I place my life, my all—
body, soul and spirit in your hands.
I’ll live for you, my Father
and follow your commands.
A full, self-sacrifice
is all that grace demands.
To die for you
is life anew.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Dust and Ash

Hands filled with dust and ash
relentless cycle of earth, moon, and sun.
What was once future blurs into past;
tendons ache as we try to hold on
to that which we cannot grasp
victimized by gravity.
Life implodes upon itself
into a new sense of reality.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Two Poems Published

"The Literary Lion" and "The Salesman's Son" appear on Lyrical Passion Poetry E-zine.

Please check the website out.

The Salesman’s Son 

The returning always seems 
swifter than the leaving until 
you get closer to where you leave 
again. Then time expands, stretching 
out like thick rubber bands 
that bound his mileage books together. 
I hated his leaving: never there 
ever present eyes that followed 
me every day of my life. They haunt 
me even now. I don’t remember 
a day hating him, not really; 
no animosity there— 
just a pained and plain indifference. 
I used to want to wish him to Hell. 
But I could not bring myself 
to care that much. 
The room still carries the scent of urine 
reminiscent of my father 
on his final birthday 
two weeks before he said goodbye 
the last time. The leaving now 
somehow seemed longer than 
before. The regretful ragged breath 
could never express his hazel eyes. 
Time expands, stretching out 
and then he is gone once again.

The Literary Lion
We wander into an old
book store: into a palace
of pages, this tomb of tomes—
and there we drink tea            
surreptitiously stealing
words. Feeling the guilt
of my theft and to make
amends I procure
a lean chapbook of poems.
Baptized into the bright
light flooding through
streaked window pane
I find myself crying
out with Isaiah over
prison cells, saying
Kiddush for a day old
child, wandering empty
down the streets of old
Manhattan: an immigrant friend
     of homeless children.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Lament for Corinth

Father, they’ve divided my body!
Stretching my arms so they cannot cross
they pound nails and tear my flesh.
Forgive them; they know not what they do.

Father, they’ve divided my clothes!
Playing games around this sacred cross,
they fight over torn pieces of cloth.
Forgive them; they know not what they do.

Father, they’ve divided my people!
How soon they forget the word of the cross,
they rip and they tear my body in two.
Forgive them; they know not what they do.

Aftermath of a Teenage Romance

Her name was Rosa and I was in love,
transfixed by her deep crystal eyes.
I was too senseless to know the difference
between transfixed and being impaled.
It seems to me that a rose by any
other name still draws blood.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Snow Queen

desolate waste land
wind, rain, ice and blowing snow
tears from a cold heart

Saturday, May 1, 2010


a night for drinking
green tea sweet with blueberries
stillness in a cup


Rope burns calloused hands,
panic and fatigue set in,
wet palms grip tighter.

Failure close at hand:
stomach churns in frustration.
Peace found in release.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Revisiting Psalm 121

There never seemed to be much hope
this side of the heavens. So
we pinned our hopes on high. Perhaps
there was a chance among the stars.
We worshiped sun and moon. The gods
lived in the hills and halls of air.
We set them in the mountains but
they never seemed to rise above
our own imaginations. So
we dropped our gaze and looked inside
for redemption and release
to find the ash sifting through
filthy hands and dirtied fingers.
Then you showed up out of the blue,
raised our eyes to gaze beyond

the stars into the mind of God.

This Is The End of the World

...... This is the end of the world:
sitting on the porch sipping
coffee with the scent of wisteria
floating by. Wondering why
The world can’t seem to slow itself down.

...... This is the end of the world:
single mom cursing the absent
baby daddy for leaving them
behind for some rainbow ride
with no looking back in love or regret.

...... This is the end of the world:
some politician selling his soul
to keep the money rolling in
holding on the reins of power
forgetting those who put him there.

...... This is the end of the world:
some preacher preaching the end of time
selling his books and schemes on gold
and stock, while in vestments holds
the body and blood of Christ hostage.

...... This is the end of the world:
where the lion lies down with the lamb
the child will play in the den of the snake;
a world renewed for humankind
where man and woman live in peace.

...... This is the end of the world.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010


The clown laughs,
his heart out
breaking as
he runs his lover's
through on stage.
It seems the crowd
cheers loudest for
the tragic comedy.
When it turns
out real there is
the awkward silence,
the flash of terror.
And then they yawn
and go back home,
laughing. La
è finita!

Sunday, April 25, 2010


Alone in my car, heading South
on I-thirty-five while the sun
is rising up in the East. I
rose up at four o’clock this morning
to make the trip. Not enough
sleep at nights put you in
precarious positions with
the sun melting on the side
of your face. The hum-thrumming sound of tires
spinning on asphalt wears me down.
My youngest is exhausted from
too many friends with too little time
while my oldest tires from
too few. My wife is torn in two
by worry while I’m about
to drift off (the road onto the shoulder).
I have to slow this old car down
and get off the thoroughfare
before we all crash and burn.

Friday, April 23, 2010

According to the Coal Miner

Digging into the darkness of
Donbass is no easy task. You
descend a thousand meters Into
the womb of the world and midwife coal.
I know each day could be my last
and the mine my sepulcher
I suppose life beneath
the surface made me see beneath
the surface of things, perhaps even
into the things of the spirit. Who knows?
I am just a simple miner:
a digger bound to the tools of an era
past, who remembers the names of the dead.
There was once a time when a shaft of life
penetrated deep into
this heart of darkness and I recognized
the faces of the living: the nameless
children of those whose names I
recalled. Now I dig In another
place: the heart of a child. Once
I was a midwife of the earth
but now I witness the birth of heaven.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Rock Island

He sat alone and read his book
oblivious to all who passed.
Waitresses were only waves
lapping against a coral reef.
Although the coffee shop was filled
With piped in music and tête-à-têtes
He sat, a solitary stone,
surrounded by a sea of life.

I Am Weary of You, Death

I am weary of you, Death.
.....I am much too tired
..........with watching children die;
...............with suicidal homicides,
....................with ethnic cleansing genocides.

You do not come as a friend
nor do you bring relief.
The only things you bring with you
are fears and tears and grief.

Your press is better than deserved: are overrated, over served.
..........And, please spare me the nerve
...............of the preachers who look to paint as an angel or God’s saint

to pluck a flower from earth
to plant in his paradise
(as if he didn’t have enough).
Do they think this his design?

You are an abomination,
.....the result of condemnation.
..........You’re the final deconstruction
...............and the ultimate demonstration
....................that something has gone awry

with our existence here on earth.
And although I will die,
I am weary of you death.

Sunset Dawning

Three celebrants levitate
while an earth bound three wait.
And the light shines from the West
casting shadows in the East.
Imagination and fantasy
bear me away in ecstasy
and in fear. So the spirit
soars, carried away by lyric
impossibilities dawning.
The airborne three fly from the coming
light of reason, or transcend.
In the darkness below again
wander an unholy trinity
of madness, blindness, stupidity.

Friday, April 16, 2010

I'm Late (Again)

I saw the rabbit jump down the hole
with his pocket watch in hand.
If you don't mind, I'll leave the chase
to the blond-haired girl this time.
I'm done with pursuing grains of sand
and temporary lines.