Category Archives: My Poetry & Fiction

Caveat: Poem #944

So I attempt to move ahead, to set aside the brooding things, but moods assert and dwell like dead – like ghosts adrift on empty wings. The spider webbing fills my head with self recriminations, rings of cloudy doubts and … Continue reading

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Caveat: Poem #943

From high ambition, I traipse through unmade countries, to disappointment.

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Caveat: Poem #942

well there’s some coffee nice when you wake so early the trees are not still

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Caveat: Poem #941

dawn climbs over here leaving behind over there licking her fingers

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Caveat: Poem #940

Before dawn we went and pulled the boat out and up; the light struck water.

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Caveat: Poem #939

Oatmeal for breakfast which has become the habit – that and my window.

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Caveat: Poem #938

the demons dwell there those spaces beside potholes snapping at machines

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Caveat: Poem #937

The mountain is pink where the gold sun finds its snows and the air shivers.

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Caveat: Poem #936

they said he was bad disliking his love of rules he drew lines through space

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Caveat: Tree #50

Walking down the road with my brother Andrew, I saw the fiftieth tree. [daily log: walking, 5km]

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Caveat: Poem #935

The snow turns to rain; rain turns to snow turns to rain; winter spits its spite.

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Caveat: Poem #934

The rain falls on snow A creek sings exultations Water over ice

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Caveat: Poem #933

My mood plunged in the wake of events: A machine refuses to work. I’m not so mechanical… At least, not as I’d like. So a gloom descends: A rain on snow – Insistent – Melting Drifts.

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Caveat: Poem #932

The saw wouldn’t work. Frustration overtook me. I stood in the snow.

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Caveat: Poem #931

The moon approached dispassionately, with not a glance to either side. A hoary cloud floated by, blurring her pocked, pale face. The earth ignored her, preoccupied with winter and ice. Cool.

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Caveat: Poem #930

Is it possible to write poems about the sprawling internet? All the seething, grasping text that underlies a world – an engineered mind – a clockwork brain: idiot savant soul.

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Caveat: Poem #929

The atmosphere tastes like frozen grapes and snow conceals the doubtful path. I step forward, then sideways. A bird rushes by me. The hill hides the sun but the sky’s blue. A branch snaps. Silent place.

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Caveat: Poem #928

Yesterday it snowed from dawn to dusk. So I stayed in for the morning. I thought the firewood could wait. Fat flakes fell on windows. Still, I took a walk. The road was white. I left tracks, Saw trees, trudged.

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Caveat: Poem #927

Bits of shredded trees all embedded in slopes of frozen mud and snow testify to the assaults committed by machines impelled by profits hungry for wood devouring churning wants.

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Caveat: Poem #926

The eagle circled round and landed in a hemlock by the river. Yellow beak and white head spun. A branch shuddered and swayed. So the raven swooped, changing her spot from a rock to a pine.

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