A Garden Grows

A Garden Grows

Christ wears a gas mask,
shudders as Putin’s machine

A Split Second in Time

A Split Second in Time

An eclectic interpretation of mood and a mix of form.

Hunting Season

Hunting Season

This comes from my earlier work at a rural Appalachian Ohio convenience store that also doubled as the area’s location for deer tagging.

This is the Year

This is the Year

Exploring an obsession with the ill-treatment of women, and the antagonisms of love and aging.

Melting into the Universal Dissolve

Melting into the Universal Dissolve

A snapshot in time describing the paradoxical nature of life and consciousness.

hot iron

hot iron

A caution against procrastination.

Superlatives

Superlatives

Centered on the often chaotic and ridiculous nature of existence.

A Flirtation Gone Awry

A Flirtation Gone Awry

A young man meets his match when he attempts to pick up a savvy young woman.

Inside Blues

Inside Blues

Mad rain beat down
all day in his room

From here on in:soaring

From here on in:soaring

In memory of Gordon Lightfoot passing.

Honestly

Honestly

Learning to love myself and realize that it isn’t always your loss when it hurts; sometimes people can make you forget the good in yourself.

Song my mother sang

Song my mother sang

When babe in arms
My mother sang to me

Review of Lilies on the deathbed of Étaín and Other Poems

Review of Lilies on the deathbed of Étaín and Other Poems

A review of Lilies on the deathbed of Étaín and Other Poems by Oisín Breen.

The Course of Kind

The Course of Kind

An interplay of preconceptions, the arts, faith, acceptance, discovery and love.

the land of body is tired and needs to rest from entertaining immature tourists

the land of body is tired and needs to rest from entertaining immature tourists

I write of smells, cutaneous sensations, truth. Sometimes the Natural World is a place of rage, power, reprieve, and wonder.

Weather Map

Weather Map

A work of evocative impressionism rooted in reality and history but suffused through the psyche to be dream-like.

Dear G

Dear G

Dear G
You’ve asked me what makes a poet