Micropoetry, a reflection

My entry into micropoetry Recently, as I've noted, I completed a series of 365 micropoems, all of which I've scheduled to be posted on my Twitter account at a rate of one per day until Dec. 31st, 2021 (actually, until Jan. 1st, 2022). This experience, as you can imagine, has given me a feel for… Continue reading Micropoetry, a reflection

Sympathy, or: Empathy

Epigraph: Listening is being able to be changed by the other person.–Alan Alda (b. 1936) An American sentence: Sincere curiosity led me to listen, which rather changed me. What's an 'American Sentence'? Allen Ginsberg, inventor of the American Sentence, felt that the haiku didn’t work as well in English. Ginsberg decided to remove the line structure… Continue reading Sympathy, or: Empathy

Free advice, or: Leave a tip

Epigraph: Pride is concerned with who is right. Humility is concerned with what is right.-Ezra Taft Benson (1899 – 1994) An American sentence: Self-proclaimed experts opine; meanwhile, I hardly understand myself. What's an 'American Sentence'? Allen Ginsberg, inventor of the American Sentence, felt that the haiku didn’t work as well in English. Ginsberg decided to remove… Continue reading Free advice, or: Leave a tip

My poem ‘Half a dozen of the other, or: Jew’ published on MasticadoresIndia

The lovely Terveen Gill, editor of MasticadoresIndia, has published my poem titled 'Half a dozen of the other, or: Jew' in this esteemed publication. I am very thankful to Terveen for her kind support of my writing and wish her and the magazine the greatest success with their exciting new project. Please go to MasticadoresIndia… Continue reading My poem ‘Half a dozen of the other, or: Jew’ published on MasticadoresIndia

Regret, or: More often

A rispetto I often relive my mistakes. I often sense life has no point. I often think I'm being too fake. No one's left for me to disappoint. I often curse under my breath. I often imagine my death. I often feel I'm not worth shit. More often than I'd like to admit.

Floating, or: Flying

A Haibun I have writer's block, in the sense that all I want to do most days is write; sometimes, it gets in the way of (/blocks me from) being fully present in my life. The composition of poetry is a defining aspect of my every day; it has become impossible for me to conceive… Continue reading Floating, or: Flying

Who, or: Where

An Alouette Weighing sensation's Sheer desperation At lack of other poets, For expressive minds To serve as remind- ers candor not to omit. Deep pangs of mute heart Play merely one part In yearning for words that speak Worlds, while dolent soul Feels itself quite whol- Ly: adrift, self, hollow, bleak. The Alouette This form… Continue reading Who, or: Where

Be for, or: Before

My 2nd Alouette Oft, I underrate My own some-day fate... Feeling I'm here for my child, Hoping to bequeath Firm blade for her sheath, Of many insights compiled. I'm mostly of thoughts And abandoned soughts, Verses my greatest pleasure. I pen ever more, Hoping that before End, she's sure of her measure. The Alouette This… Continue reading Be for, or: Before