Poet's Journal

Journal Entries

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Bell Without Sound

“We are masters of the universe” the cartoon heroes declare, “fighting for truth and justice.” Rabbits don’t seem impressed as they nibble away on the

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Prepare for the Mountain

Looking within I find seasoned wood split and ready for the pyre. I throw in with heretics daring immolation, snow monks melting ice with silence.

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Prairie Winds

I know the remorse of an aging man, the plague of choices I might have made, worn faces risen as ambition failed and loneliness became

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From the Deep Well

Closed in under dense clouds I shelter from the rain drumming on the cabin roof, my soul drunk with peace from the deep well of

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Poems