By minutes and inches
Those who tell you nay
Are stick-in-the-mud Grinches.
September 26, 2026
Saturday, September 26, 2026
Friday, September 25, 2026
"Some Unbidden Fire"
Not Wisdom’s lamp, but some unbidden fire
Lights up the poet’s page (and strikes him blind)
He sings of gods, of love, of Fate’s desire,
But what is that Force that impels his Mind?
As seer sees what he's yet to explore
And prophets utter truths they never planned
So verse arrives, a stranger at the door
A gift the scribbler does not understand.
The measured line, the metaphor, the rhyme
Are vessels filled by Something not his own
That speaks in tongues across the Gulf of Time
He catches words as if they have been thrown.
Thus Inspiration, wilder than the will,
Makes poets oracles against their skill.
September 25, 2026
"Burning"
You beckoned me to Hell
With bony, burning hand
But my own impel
Saved me from what you'd planned.
September 25, 2026
"Instinct"
Instinct, not Wisdom, inspires the poet's quote
Just as a singer utters what he does not know
So verse arrives (as half-remembered note?)
From somewhere farther than the Self can go.
September 25, 2026
"Shirk"
Truth did the work
I let it run free
Work that I might shirk
It took care of for me.
September 25, 2026
"Mayhem"
When you're headed into a storm
Into the teeth of mayhem
Seek out the place that's warm
(like maybe Bethlehem).
September 25, 2026
"Pride"
Like the spirit of BashÅ
I wander the countryside
Looking for things to write about
(things that prick my pride).
September 25, 2026
Thursday, September 24, 2026
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