Just a few original shots of my balcony window in different moods and lighting. (I think you have to click on each photo in order to see full size, if so enticed)
Those of you who have been generous enough with your time and engagement to follow my poems know I used to post poetry of other writers i felt deserving of attention. I’ve decided to launch a new site, ‘Grumpy’s Gifts’ dedicated to my solidarity as not every talented wordsmith is also a marketing expert. 😉 Please come visit, share, join in if so inclined. As always, thank you for your support.
(Grumpy’s Gift) https://wordpress.com/view/grumpysgiftspoetry.org
the wolfmen out
on mall street
wipe muddy feet ‘n
sharpen fangs on
granny sheep’s tied
to tree in closet, while pack
have a good ‘atter.
woodsman by moon river
feels her close, yet
he won’t hear
doom’s on repeat,
just skipping grooves
to broken beat.
Here is a poem from one of my favourite framers. Aside from being talented, and mindful, he was and thus is much help to me.
Never rooted in Tibet,
has not watched a whale breach
a November Pacific dusk, or guzzled
bitter beer near Vesuvius. Nor has it
absorbed the warmth of a loved one’s
hip on a frozen morning long after
the embers’ glow has greyed
and the windows blossomed
white. It cannot know the beauty
of disparate instruments playing
in joyous harmony. It will whisper
no incantations, does not smile,
won’t ever feel the anticipation
of a first kiss after a complicated
courtship. The bouquets of Bordeaux
elude it, as do tears or the benefits
of laughter. Why, then, do I envy it so?
“This Oak” was published in Slippery Elm (print only) published by Findlay University in Findlay, Ohio, in spring 2019. As luck would have it, I, along with four others, am reading at Findlay University tonight, Tuesday, October 15. Who would have thought this backyard Texas poet would be reading in Ohio?
the tune fits the theft perfectly, or maybe it’s just my hocus mind that wands it so. Real or not, magic in magnificence.
©Anthony Gorman 2019