Poetry Singles

As The Forest Grows follows Desperate Times. It is a very melancholic piece.

I wrote Brassiere more of a joke than for any other purpose. The obvious subject was broached in an adult conversation; the same from which Fireman originated.

Contemplating the Native American Ghost Dance.

I wrote this poem late at night, while a thunderstorm raged outside.

Desperate Times is a rueful piece that arose from notes taken for a set of poems with a distinct Aztec theme. The theme didn't carry over very well, but I think the core subject matter is quite clear. Although the narrator describes what could be only a brazen coward, the unspoken wickedness that is the cause of flight is what I wanted to address.

The original theme is extremely dark, and I had a hard time putting it into words. Ultimately, I kept it basic and this was the result.

Just a few random words, nothing more.

I wrote Falling Leaves while contemplating a tune, and also imagining how memory can seem to be like leaves that are nurtured and eventually blanket the forest bed.

Fireman is an adult day dream from the point of view of the prissy intellectual whose fancy roams into the risque.

A contemplation of the universe while watching kids light fireworks for the 4th of July.

On the first page of my first poetry journal is the original version of Green. It is a very simple poem that I like more for its rhythm than its content. I made some slight modifications to the structure of the original poem before posting it, and even still it is a pretty juvenile attempt. Still, there is a quality about it that I like.

In observance of the food I eat, and my poor body that must cope.

I was walking home from Dr. Sanchez's poetry class when a lady bug flew into my ear. Once I got home, I felt compelled to jot down a few lines about such a mundane experience, and I have always remembered it.

I wrote this in the midst of a meeting. If you've been privy to a high-tech corporate meeting, then you should know what I'm referring to. If not, think of it as a lifeboat - there is no escape.

I wrote this poem while working on a digital image, and I've always liked how it turned out considering I just wrote it and never made further changes.

Painted Faces was part of a set of poems entitled Masquerade.

Puppet Strings was part of a set of poems entitled Masquerade.

I remember writing this poem, but I have long since forgotten why it was written. Rib is posted here because I had made a little sketch to go with it, and despite not remembering the inspiration, I do remember having a purpose.

I wrote Romancing Applesauce for a poetry reading in a class instructed by Dr. Ricardo Sanchez.

Like Tiger Chimes, I was very happy with Rose in the Snow, but made the mistake of trying to write an entire set of poems based on this one idea. Gads, it was all quite terrible.

This poem was written while I was flirting with a girl in one of my college classes.

While I was in the midst of a collections kick I started working on a collection of romance-related poetry. I gave up after only a few verses as it was pretty gnarly stuff. Although it seems pretty naive now, I decided to include it because I do like the idea behind the motivation of writing it in the first place.

This poem includes a self-review provided to a student interested in using the work in a class.

This poem was written for an oral reading at a local Barnes and Noble.

This poem was hastily written, and is posted in its original form. It is in reference to Dr. Ricardo Sanchez.

In reference to the Clayton W. Cates' poem And Bombers Are Missing.

I wrote The Wolvenblauer while writing reference documentation and testing several scrolling and display properties. I needed some loose content that took up space, and was tired of using Lorem Ipsum. Obviously, the suggestive nature and language would make this a terrible example for general public consumption, so I never used it. Later on, I emailed it to a friend and asked what they thought, and they brushed it off with an oh, it's pretty obvious what this means. I got a kick out of that because it's really just a Jabberwocky-like poem of nonsensical statements that happen to fall together into a suggestive context. That, and the sporadic use of profanity.

Tiger Chimes isn't all that well written, but it possesses an unbridled, raw, and innocent emotion that I really like. If I could remember why I wrote it, I would explain it further. However, I can only say that I like it and at the same time am aware of the lapses in literary quality.

An interesting footnote is that I tried to crowbar an entire set of poems out of this one. All of those other poems are terrible, terrible, terrible. But, the interesting part isn't my poor judgement in trying, but that I've since used the name of that collection for a set of science fiction stories that I really like. That name, of course, was Predators of the Meadow.

When the family cat died, I felt compelled to write a little poem about it. If the cat had died five years earlier, I probably would have been more upset. As I was in my know-it-all 20's, I met it with a jaundiced eye.

But, I think this is perhaps one of my earliest poems that doesn't completely suck. I'm posting it on that merit.

Transposition was a poem I wrote while contemplating the ancient civilizations of South and Central America.

A friend was going through a tough time and I wanted to offer some support, so jotted this down for her. This is a transcription of the original note.

Considering a volcano in ancient times.

I wrote Walking with Ghosts the same day of a layoff at my company in 2001.