A Meditation on the Planet Earth
I am not the wind Though each breath takes some particle on a flight I am not the roar nor the murmur My thoughts are as silent as a child learning I am not the inhale or the exhale But […]
A Meditation on the Planet Earth
By Dan Cuddy
I am not the wind Though each breath takes some particle on a flight I am not the roar nor the murmur My thoughts are as silent as a child learning I am not the inhale or the exhale But […]
Anne Judy Godwin Poem II
Anne Judy Godwin Poem II odd times like the way a sunbeam hits a car's chrome I remember Anne "Judy" Godwin who I met Ocean City, MD, 1961 the evening ocean graying and then the color
Captain America in the Mirror
i am a broken plastic superhero i was so captain america but the orgies of tornadoes and the prophecies from the underground shelters have disintegrated my shield no one wants to reach out give it is all take the
The Extroverted Introvert
hours of unhappiness imbuing the words I find on the sidewalk on walls on the fuzzy writing on the face of the moon with some great Shakespearean empyrean importance while in truth what we have
TV Poem
TV Poem political dishwater thrown from the TV all of us covered with debris smelling of someone else's point of view I'd take my shoe to the screen but I want to see NCIS I guess get a
Night Fires
fire engines whistles-lights-bells flashing red all over the night trip to rescue dampen contain this combustible fallen world this collapsed house of human endeavor this baying at the moon so much loss grief cannot contain the emptiness bursting exploding in the widow the widower the
An Announcement
Here I am Redundant, an Andy Warhol poster A few smears of new thought for variety Here I am Gripping an iPod Pressing buttons Sitting on a sofa Cushion sliding out from under me As I replay
Stand For Peace
Saturday You will hold a candle, Protect the flame with your palm. Some will carry signs, “Stand For Peace”; There will be song. I will search for my heart In my cluttered room, Windows closed, blinds drawn. I
The Inner Harbor, Baltimore, January 8 a.m.
The dimpled water can’t decide On inscrutable green Or metallic gray. The sky, a quilt of whites, grays, Patches of scudding charcoal sewn in, Sheds a few loose threads of snow That get entangled in
Etudes without Piano
the reign in Spain drives me insane the moon jumped over the cow spilling milky light did you ever hop while swigging scotch or make a wry word while distilling whiskey or behead a French