NoPoWriMo 2015: Poem #6

Under a bright blue sky a grey caped pigeon lays his eye on the boy.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

NoPoWriMo 2015: Poem #5

behind the red door

the red door has a doorknob,

but for the life of me I cannot remember

its color. i know i must pass through

to reach the next level

to get closer to the me sitting

in the center, but cannot bring

myself to look at that door knob

my eyes whip over, around, and away

my neck swivellng like a white

girl possessed by satan, my heart hammering

blood vessels in my head threatening

to burst. this is what true limbo

is like—to be on the verandah of hell

just outside of heaven, and too terrified

to find the knob to the red door.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

NaPoWriMo 2015: Poem #4

American Sentence #? 

Comatose under a depressed thicket of bed clothes waiting for grace.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

NaPoWriMo 2015: Poem #3

‘Round a table in a Mexican restaurant eight white guys sneer at jazz.

Posted in American Sentences, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

NaPoWriMo 2015: Poem #2


i’ve been roiling round

this bed for so long

it is soaked by my sweat

piss and tears/and by the

the salt of the sea/not dead

but sleeping/


i need to

look under my bed

there is something under

my bed and i want my father to

get up off his cancerous bed to

walk out of the cancer ward

and walk over the sea and look under my

bed, but he does not get up

just grins from behind his carcass/but there

is nothing there

behind his carcass/he is gone/ has

already gone beneath the waves, so I

look under the bed/the lizard king

snaps unto my tongue/i cannot speak/that is the real nightmare

i was so sure/so sure/

nothing was really there/i’m still not sure

whether i was wrong or right.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

NaPoWriMo 2015: Poem #1

Well I certainly didn’t think it would be this long until I posted again. However, given my tendency to not finish what I’ve started, I’m not surprised. I will work on not being disappointed in myself.

I will start my entry into the April 2015 challenge of writing a poem a day with a simple assignment. Using a form invented by Allen Ginsberg that he called American Sentences. Ginsberg believed that the linear line of the sentence was more in keeping with life in the West, than the Eastern form of the Japanese haiku.

NaPoWriMo 2015: Poem #1

A young lemon tree stands inside the zendo following the wind’s breath.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Re-thinking the Blog

I have not written for quite some time now, and I am wondering whether I want to chart my struggles with depression, or will that give the disease too much power? Do I even believe that depression is a disease? I don’t know that I do. I think I see depression as a combination of temperament and personal history. In other words, I believe that I suffer in the way that I do because of the way in which my personal history, from infant hood to the present day, combines with my very sensitive temperament. So, what am I hoping that writing about this and recording it in this blog will do? I think I am hoping that it will help cure me. Which right off the bat sounds a little ludicrous. How can it cure me if I don’t believe that what I suffer from is really a disease? Maybe I am hoping that by using my writing I will be able to bring my strengths to bear upon my struggles. Strengths like my writing skills, my self-knowledge, and my sense of perception. I am hoping that these skills will help me see through the distorted way in which depression colors my life. The way it influences me to highlight my failures and flaws, and diminish my accomplishments and strengths.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment