Experimenting with poetic forms How long does it take you to write a poem that you're truly proud of? For me, it usually takes a fair amount of time; and this has led me to a recent realization that I'd like to share. My friends and readers know that I am constantly experimenting with sundry… Continue reading Working up a sweat with poetic forms
A haibun Cheeks ablaze in embarrassment, I stare at the computer screen in the privacy of my office. The email I'm reading does not contain all of the information necessary for me to complete my report, and it's my fault because I forgot to ask one particularly pivotal question of our representative in the field.… Continue reading Ablaze in embarrassment, or: Lesson learned
An American sentence: Her dad beams, as his child teaches herself to swim without a kickboard. 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 of the haiku, maintaining the requirement of 17 syllables total. He… Continue reading Dare, or: Truth
d’Verse prosery Friends, today we aspire to be poems, rather than to write or read them. Tune in to the rhythms of your heart beats and breaths; experience the air, its temperature and direction; take in the colors and shapes of your surroundings. Your senses produce letterless words; heed the language of being; listen to… Continue reading We are, each of us, life’s canvases
Our first-ever parent-teacher conference Last week, we had our first parent-teacher conference with our 1st grade daughter's teacher. It was uplifting. Her teacher told us that our child is wonderful that she wishes she had a classroom of thirty children just like her. To be entirely honest, we weren't surprised by her feedback, but it… Continue reading Poor advice from a 1st grade teacher
A Cleave poem I fell in love with the city of my birth, but my deep commitment to family could not provide support enough to get me through that period of those difficult days that most required it because I was alone. so, I sucked it up, as was my father’s way, which he would… Continue reading Like father, or: Son
My 1st blank verse Iowa City, Iowa; I still remember snippets of those childhood days; the tree in our front yard that I would climb getting sawed down to a stump for no good reason; living across the street from my school: Ernest Horn Elementary School, where my mother took me to learn to ride… Continue reading ‘b’, or: ‘d’
Friends, As many of you know, I enjoy experimenting with various forms of poetry and have recently been focusing on short forms because of the goal that I set for myself at the beginning of this calendar year. I post #APoemADay on my Twitter account so those daily poems must be short. Even more recently,… Continue reading Looking for: Short forms of poetry
The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱 
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