Poems

Original Poetry by Warren Gaston

The Necessity of Absence

Death reminds us, absence surrounds.                                                                  For years my parents were present. Now they’re gone, their presence a memory, a different kind of real. Everywhere there is nothing, vacancy abounds, between letters...

read more

Personal God

Prayer, whistling for god, a summoning, a song, the Big Cozy comes panting, eager tongue dripping elixirs of belief relief, needs me, needs us all in order to be, well, God, keeps busy day after apocryphal day, no divine fun without the anthropocentric mess to fix and...

read more

Poems Are . . .

not messages. not in a bottle not in voicemail transformative not informative only dismantling semantic certitude with lexical hurricanes linguistic earthquakes verbal volcanoes dialogic tectonic plates or even your hand held to the sun casting a useful shadow of...

read more

Self Reflection

When I look in the mirror I see what I think is me. But only my face faces me. If I want to see more, I must seek out the company of disagreeable people, I must choose the longest line at a grocery store, I must pick up a twenty a man drops in the street, I must...

read more

Political Dis Aster

bully order, no teetering, no tottering, farewell to faltering, stalled in a stable world even pulsing stars, apparently stay, avoiding dis aster  

read more

Conventional

The political convention is over, good talking people talking good. applause, shouts of approbation, all resolved in promises of action. If they do what they say, I’ll like what they do. Yet, tonight - another darkness, and tomorrow - a new sun.  

read more

Wood Working Shop

Our appreciation of the power of poetry would be better served if poetry was taught in wood working shop where tools are valued and things are built and taken home, than in English class where things are briefly thought about, then left behind.     Poems are...

read more

Industrious Swim

A woman slips into masculine waters, swims from here to there, swims a long way - away. She wrecks the water with desire, busy with achievement along the way, muscles beg stroke by stroke the anthem of ache recorded in neglect . . . No time to luxuriate in buoyancy,...

read more