On A Roll

Writing in carol,
Surrounded by vast bookshelves
-ambiance not seen.

Copyright©2009

Dreaming The Poem

Poet sleeps on couch,
Has many wonderful dreams
-waiting on the muse.

Copyright©2009

Writer's Block #2

Poet lays on couch,
Still can't think of haiku
-damn!damn!damn!damn!damn!

Copyright 2009

Living The Life

Sitting in cafe,
Coffee, bagel, and paper,
-small sanctuary.

Copyright 2009

Java Muse

Searching for rythm,
My muse enjoys hide and seek!
-brew her black coffee.

Copyright 2009

My Word!

Shockjock spews venom,
Norm knew he had a mission
-took gun to clinic.

Standing in doorway,
Boss said I want a word, please!
-holding the pink slips.

On hospital ward,
Old woman saw her daughter
-Said, I forgive you!

Four years of struggle,
She received her diploma,
-Congratulations!
The principal smiled at her,
she did not have the words, though.

After twenty years,
Al met his son at the gate,
-welcome home father.

Staring at the page,
Waiting for the words to come
-page simply stares back.

Copyright 2009

One Single Impression: Word

Sleep, What's That?

Pulling all nighters,
Going through next day in a daze
-living yin and yang.

Copyright 2009

Writing Blues

Poet crashing hard,
Writing verse at breakneck speed
-later, can't read lines.

Copyright 2009

Writer's Block

Poet writing Truth,
Stops to ponder what that is
-throws up the pencil.

Copyright 2009

O Muse, Hear my Cry!

Staring at the screen,
Waiting for great words to come
-or maybe a nap.

Copyright 2009

Revising World's View

I shut off the news,
Then go to my desk, and write
-seeing a new world.

Copyright 2009

Just Wasting Time

In anger you said
Writing was a waste of time
-and then you played golf!

Copyright 2008

Being born to write
Means fighting Death to the end
-life lived with meaning.

Copyright 2008

NaPoWriMo Poem #9

To The Would-Be Plagiarist
by Edward S. Gault

Sir, if I could speak to you
About that paper you found.
On it, you may have noticed a poem-
With no by-line.
That was because it was a work copy-
I didn't mean for it
To get published like that-
I wanted to revise it before I sent it out.
Instead, I lost it,
-at least that copy.
So read it.
Snicker.
Then tear it up and throw it away!
That way, we both win.
Now, yes-I did say it was only a copy.
Since there is no name on it, you don't know who I am.
For all you know I could be famous,
Or the poem could be famous,
And have been taught in the schools for years-
For all you know.
And you really don't know, now do you?
So think about that before you send it or e-mail it someplace-
With your name on it!
There is a very good chance that you will be caught.
No one is immune.
Some very big names have been caught.
There are people out there
Looking out for this all the time.
It's what they do, and there good at it.
If your going to do something with it,
Make damn well certain that it looks a lot different
Than what you have, because that's crap!
And I really don't think you want to
Take the credit for that anyway, now do you?
(and by the way, wouldn't it be a lot easier
to just write your own damn poem,
than to put a lot of effort into camouflaging
the fact you stole mine?)
So, just tear it up.
Good.
Throw the pieces in that barrel over there.
Excellent!
Now, we both win.

Copyright 2008

Writer's Block Anyone?

Aisles and aisles of books,
I came to write, perused instead
- O just a haiku.

Copyright 2008

How I Spent New Years Night

One of my resolutions this year is to get a lot more writing done, especially poetry. My goal is to dramatically increase my poetics folder without winding up in bankruptcy court. No easy trick.
It's not always easy to find a place to write either.

How To Write Late at Night On New Year's Day

You're either reading this now
Or perhaps you're listening to me read it.
No matter.
This is how I came to write it.
It is New Years Day 2008.
According to my cell phone
The time is now 10:43 pm.
I am in the hallway of my apartment building.
I am sitting in a folding chair
wracking my brains for something to write about.
Finally I think of this-
So I am writing it.
I am looking toward the end of the hall
Where the overhead light is reflected
In the window.
There is only one light
But it is reflected, and reflected again three times
In the same pane of glass.
The hallway is painted gray.
Above the moulding, which is about two and a half feet up,
(from the floor)-
The wall is painted a light gray.
Below the moulding it is painted a darker gray.
My wife says it is green.
I don't care, It still looks gray.
I am dressed in a white t-shirt with black slacks.
I'm out here because my whole unit is dark.
My wife and daughter are asleep.
I could use the Sitting Room
But we have guests, and they are using it
As a guest bed chamber.
Therefore, the hallway is the only space
I can use as a study.
The other night, the woman next door to me
Came back late with her friend
And saw me camped out like this-
In the hallway, writing.
Needless to mention, they were astonished.
They'll probably remember it for a long time.
Maybe, forever.

Copyright 2008

Weathering Those Snowstorm Blues

Here in Boston , we're down one snowstorm this last Thursday, and we have another one coming up tomorrow. I got a lot of good material out of this storm though, The best way to "weather" a storm is to write:

Snowstorm in courtyard
People shovel paths to door-
Then, even more snow.

Copyright 2007