Category Archives: Poetry

I spent an entirely unsatisfactory fifteen minutes earlier this morning attempting to learn more about the Persian poet, Rumi. The time was unsatisfactory because, for one reason, I was unable to wade through the various Persian and Arabic and other … Continue reading →

Poetry fills an aching need within the poet to express emotions that cannot be expressed otherwise. And poetry enables poets and their audiences, whether readers or listeners, to establish intimate emotional bonds. Sometimes—more often than not, it seems—the words of … Continue reading →

A tiny bit more structured introspective assessment, please. Nothing imbued with gravitas, though; let’s keep it light and airy, to the extent introspection makes that possible. Keep it flexible so it can bend the way my mind bends. Mind-bending. Does … Continue reading →

Words left unspoken Thoughts never shared Love never given Hearts never bared Hurt not softly soothed Life like a cell Hate freely given Tears never fell Eyes lacking for sight Regret not felt Emptiness so cold Knees never knelt Heartaches … Continue reading →

The bad poet mangles words and scorches meanings, bludgeoning beauty until it resembles a bloated corpse left in the desert sun for an entire season. The bad poet ruins ideas, polluting them with bias as thick as an atmosphere of … Continue reading →

When friends’ shoulders aren’t there for the crying, when love is a wall made of stone, when life seems a prelude to dying, when you’re lonely and weeping alone. That’s when you create your own salvation, you craft it from … Continue reading →

I am a dormant volcano. A raging inferno whose fuel, spent in spectacular displays of fire and molten rock, has disappeared into the center of the Earth. I may be, in fact, an extinct volcano, one with no recorded eruption in … Continue reading →

Listen to the sky. That’s not the sky, it’s an echo of your emptiness. Listen to the horizon. That’s not the horizon, it’s a sigh of hope. Listen to the river. That’s not the river, its a murmur of possibility. … Continue reading →

I wish more people would read and listen to poetry. I wish they wouldn’t dismiss it as linguistic egotism. I wish they would try to listen to it without judgement and disdain. Instead, I wish they would try to hear … Continue reading →

A screed. A diatribe. A rant. An inflammatory evangelical oratory capable of inciting fury. An opportunity to express the ferocity of my feelings without having to defend them. That’s what I’m looking for. An occasion to bitterly complain without offering … Continue reading →

Honesty is dangerous, especially when it reveals flaws once hidden. Honesty is ruinous when it shatters trust and breaks the bonds of love. Honesty is a toxin we best not ingest if we hope to stay alive in a world … Continue reading →

Poetry did not die with him, but it might not have lived without him. Bud Kenny loved poetry almost as much as poetry loved him. Absent Bud’s unapologetic shoulders upon which to sit and proclaim its fierce entanglement with the … Continue reading →

Silence can be the savior we did not know we were seeking. Silence can soften the blows we did not realize we were feeling. Silence can serve as a weapon, as lethal as a knife and as soft as a … Continue reading →

Perspectives on Judgment and Trust Asking for someone’s help is either an overt admission of weakness—a confirmation of one’s inabilities, frailties, and flaws— or a poignantly human expression of a belief in love and a risky act of imperfect contrition … Continue reading →