Tuesday, April 6, 2021

PENCIL ARTIST, a poem

 

 

          The pencil artist took

          just minutes to capture

          the prissy expression

          on my youthful face,

          many decades ago

 

          My wife put the work

          on our bedroom wall,

          a daily reminder

          that his vision of me

          differed from mine      

         

I appreciate only now

          as my ego has receded

          with the onset of age

          the perceptive skill

          of that street artist

 

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

AGENDA, a poem

 

          The clock no longer

          Sets my agenda

          Lying in bed until

          My body says

          You should arise

 

          There are so many

          Ways to enjoy life

          Watching cable

          Or writing poetry

          Whatever fits your fable        

         

Wednesday, March 10, 2021

THE PENCIL ARTIST, a review

 

          I was happily surprised to discover Kenneth T. Mencher’s brief review of my novel, THE PENCIL ARTIS, on Amazon.

          Mencher wrote in his 4-star review: “A wonderful, clever, quick read. A bit of a fairy tale that artists wish would come true. Some of the writing is a bit clunky, but doesn't detract overly much from the pleasure of reading this.”

          THE PENCIL ARTIST was the fulfillment of my goal to publish eight novels by the time I was 81. I uploaded the book to Amazon, Smashwords and Barnes and Noble on Aug. 15, 2015, two weeks before my 81st birthday. That was the final act of my novel-writing career because of the circumstances of my life. I now write poetry.

          Thank you, Mr. Mencher, for your clever review.

         

 

 

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

PASSION and ROMANCE, a poem

 

          Don’t feel sorry

          for me

          just for shredding

          my life

 

          You wanted passion,

          I wanted romance

          Why couldn’t we just

          have mixed the two

 

          Always wondering why

          our love had to die

          Perhaps the answer was

          taking you for granted

 

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

BLOCKED

 

          Inspiration lies dormant,

          banked in the ashes

          of very old age

          Needed is a spark

          to ignite the fire

          of my creativity

 

Saturday, February 13, 2021

HOLDING HANDS, a poem

 

My arm around you,

          a smile on your face

          What better place

          in this human race

 

          To walk hand in hand

          wherever life takes us

          is a wonderful plan

          for this earthly span

 

          At day’s end, the pleasure

of standing close together

viewing the reds and golds

of a glorious evening sky

Sunday, February 7, 2021

JANUARY SIXTH, a poem

 

         The dupes, the supremacists, the crazies

          heard the wannabe despot’s call         

          to amass for a bloody assault

          on our sacred Congressional hall

 

          Tear them apart in my name

was the traitorous message

creating a willing mob

with a murderous intent

                   

A thin blue line of brave police

          turned the violent, seditious horde

         with a hero dying on this shameful day,

          the price to save our democratic way