Winter Solstice Sonnet

Winter Solstice Sonnet

I’ve lived where the solstice air
freezes onto my mustache.
Where daylight is a vague glow
behind clouds of dirty slush.

I’ve felt that deep ancestral fear
that the sun has given up
and we’ll all shiver solid,
defeated by the menacing dark.

Light a candle with me tonight.
Share this bottle of wine.
Trust that our planet hasn’t spun
off into the eternal void

and tomorrow we’ll tilt toward summer
once again.

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Treasure published at Spillwords

I’m pleased to announce that one of my chocolate holiday poems from Milkshakes and Chilidogs called “Treasure” was reprinted at Spillwords. Here’s your chance to read it, if you don’t own my chapbook.

And if you don’t own Milkshakes and Chilidogs yet, why not buy yourself a copy as a present? Maybe two, so you’ll have one to give away.

It’s available in both paperback and a Kindle versions.

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Thoughts on Spacetime While Making a Bed

Thoughts on Spacetime While Making a Bed

Gravity repulses me
I feel it dragging
and distorting my space
like struggling to walk
upstream neck-deep in a river

I envy the crows balanced
on tree top branches
dancing with each breeze
perched there as naturally
as I squat on the Earth

If there were no gravity
I’d grab the highest leaf
with my opposable thumbs
survey the curved horizon
delighting in the dream

Because if there were no gravity
the universe would be monotonous
no trees— no thumbs
just a thin soup of hydrogen
with the occasional helium atom

No oxygen
no iron
no blood
no skin
no bodies

Deforming the sheets
after a long night
orbiting each other
pulled together
by mutual attraction

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Milkshakes and Chilidogs – by Bartholomew Barker

The Prolific Pulse featured my chapbook Milkshakes & Chilidogs!

The Prolific Pulse

I read this awesome book of poetry by Bartholomew Barker. Here are just a few of the reviews for this book.

You can get your own copy on Amazon

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The Great Conjunction Haiku

Summer triangle
points to the great conjunction
at winter’s solstice

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For a Distant Muse

For a Distant Muse

If you lived next door,
I’d knock.

The wine has draped
my evening’s work
like burgundy velvet.
The music is tea with milk.
Candle shadows
and incense ghosts
fill the room.
I’m ready to curl
around your warmth
and drift into dreams.

But our doors open onto a canyon
that only your inspiration can leap.

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Leftover Lament

Leftover Lament

Here I sit
in the back
of the fridge

for the sudden light
a distant face
a rummaging hand
then rapture

the lo mein left yesterday
the pizza box was taken today
I’d rather be consumed
than tossed for slow decay

Here— in the back
of the frig

Written for today’s Living Poetry Prompt.

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Last Meal

Last Meal

From death row
I want my last meal
to be Thanksgiving

A crackling brown turkey
carved by my father
with a serrated knife
my mother prefers
the tasty dark meat
give me the juicy white
my brother mixed stuffing
with his bare hands
spiced with too much sage
lumpy mashed potatoes
still with the skins
salt pepper and butter

Passing serving plates
heaped with memory
grandmother to granddaughter
uncles to nephews
cousins to cousins to cousins
it’s the stories
I remember
more than the food

For dessert
the proverbial pumpkin pie
nutmeg and whipped cream
and my family busts me out
just before midnight

(Inspired by this week’s Living Poetry Prompt. Happy Thanksgiving!)

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November 18 Haiku

New moon smiles in the west
Her majesty escorted by two giants
All around the world poets swoon


At twilight tonight and tomorrow, check out the western sky and you’ll see the crescent moon with two bright stars, which are the planets Jupiter and Saturn. Here’s wishing you Clear Skies!

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She reads by moonlight

She reads by moonlight—
real books of ink and paper.
She watches television
with the sound off.

She leaves Spotify running
as she fades to sleep—
volume low as a blanket
so she’ll dream her own songs.

She loves my poetry but never
wants to meet the poet.
She’d rather fill in the gaps
with her imagination.

I’d just destroy her image of me
with my mundane reality.

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