surmising with aplomb and nary remorse
Come hither all ye children And gather round, For the Poem Man cometh To your quaint town. He’s bringing the most magical, beautiful, Spectacular sounds… Sounds that you may have never heard before. He has the sounds of pinks and yellows And midnight blues. You’ll hear rainbows and gumdrops And morning dew. Come hither sweet … Read more
POETIC LICENSE Thank God for the passionate poet Who trumpets the sun’s morning rise And who writes lovely, pretty sad songs Of young lovers’s heartbreaking goodbyes Thank God for the passionate poet Who reaches right into the heart To stroke it, to tease it, to please it And sometimes to tear it apart #NATIONALPOETRYDAY2014 ~~~~ … Read more
Look, take a peek…
do not fear the dark for faith requires no light grace shines through the night
My review of Maugham’s masterpiece OF HUMAN BONDAGE reminded me of a poem I wrote and which was included in POEM MAN, a children’s poetry book my family and I published back at the turn of the century. The book is currently out of print, but here is what the poem has to say:
An offering from POEMS FROM THE RIVER, a collection of my poetry that will soon be released.
I would like to congratulate and thank all who courageously sacrificed their identities, and in some cases, their lives, in order to proudly and honorably serve their nation while Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was national policy.
And we all know that to improve something, you don’t need to focus on what is all ready working, you need to focus on those areas that are under lubricated and mis-aligned and need a little re-balancing.
It’s the squeaky, protesting wheel that is gonna get the oil first.
So be assured that I intend to be one annoying squeaky protesting wheel from time to time.
All I ask from you is that you help supply the oil in any amount and in any way you can.
Seiko embodied and lived the values and qualities in character and of action that I wish I possessed as an individual and that I wish I had been able to live throughout my life.
It’s funny how we, and by we I mostly mean men, especially men of the “Manly Men” variety, often regard poetry as being light and fluffy, and that if we read it too often it will make our wrists go limp so therefore it shall forever be shunned and looked down upon and laughed at by us.