Poems
Original Poetry by Warren GastonThe Photograph
On his desk was a photo of the one he loved. Actually, it was a mirror.
Denying the Holocaust
In sacred memory of the murdered millions International Holocaust Remembrance Day 1/27/2022 I would like to believe the Holocaust never happened and except for the overwhelming weight of evidence, I could. I would like to believe the Holocaust never happened, that...
Poetische Sprache
From: Hell Broke Loose: Poems on the Holocaust by Warren Gaston “There is nothing in the world for which a poet will give up writing, not even when he is a Jew and the language of his poems is German.” Paul Celan* (1920-1970) The mind within my fingers suffers, I...
Riverleap
honoring the poet Paul Celan (1920-1970) “Sometimes this genius goes dark and sinks down into the bitter well of his heart.” Friedrich Holderlin A poet’s breath, first final, held, expelled, what grave gravity lured him...
Sides
My side, the right side, favors me as I favor myself. Politics, perfect to a fault.
The Move
May we move out of the room we have inhabited, the comfortable room of our confinement, a room with one door and many mirrors, into a hallway with one mirror and many doors.
Tanks
This day, stone cold, slog gray, the world slumps toward lethargy. Yet with effort, tanks, arrived by train, mass on the borders of Ukraine.
Winter Green
green trees now snow fleshed white bone ghost giants
Wurds. Wirdz. Werds. Explication
This poem is an attempt to understand the dynamics of language, spoken or written. Are words boxes of information to make and transfer meaning from one mind to another? The answer is Yes. But are words more than that? The answer is Yes. Words engage not only the mind...