by Warren Gaston | Aug 23, 2023
Poets do not let history’s wounds heal too quickly or too soon. Those cavalier with historical facts only reinjure the wound. . Poets use no bandages, no casts or slings, no gels, unguents, or ointments, they pull scabs, scratch irritations, they use salt, not salve,...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 11, 2023
Something needs to be said, needs a mouth to say it, needs tongue, needs teeth, needs breath. needs a volunteer volcano needs a woman needs a man for the molten word to rise, flowing rock to shift the shape of long imagined thought. ...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 10, 2023
So many things are so many things. Is there one thing that is just one thing? If so, name such a singularity.
by Warren Gaston | Aug 7, 2023
“To live in the present moment is a miracle.” Thich Nhat Hanh In the life of presence, there is no hurry, slow is fine, fast unfashionable. Speed will not buy time, neither will efficient tools nor labor saving devices. Time is no longer of the essence. No...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 5, 2023
Rain off and on all night. In the morning I sit in the dripping world. A sane bird sings the waiting day awake.
by Warren Gaston | Aug 1, 2023
Poets write history’s pain, but not to heal wounds too quickly or too soon. Those in a hurry to abandon facts only prolong the sting of the hurt. Poets use no bandages, no casts, no slings, no gels, unguents, or ointments, they pull scabs, scratch irritations, they...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 29, 2023
The wren, nervous at the feeder, pecks looks pecks looks picks a life seed looks for lurking jays. feeding while feeling not safe a jitter of glances
by Warren Gaston | Jul 26, 2023
Walls flattened. Roofs ripped. Homes torn. Signs peeled from stores citing what is no longer there. Slung cows. Flipped cars. Businesses upended. Left, futile foundations. Strewn littering bricks. A photo album snatched from its family of origin. A candy wrapper...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 23, 2023
So many things are so many things. Is there one thing that is just one thing? If so, name such a singularity.
by Warren Gaston | Jul 22, 2023
So limited, the alphabet, so few letters, only 26. Twenty six, for god’s sake. Can you believe it? What can be said with a maximum of two dozen plus two? Think of how much more could be said with only a few letters more. Or thoughts we could have in the noisy silence...
