February
Not a day seems to have passed sinceI last put pen to paper for you,For the passing of yet another year,For you growing beyond me,Past my understanding. February.It’s a month… Continue Reading
Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter
Not a day seems to have passed sinceI last put pen to paper for you,For the passing of yet another year,For you growing beyond me,Past my understanding. February.It’s a month… Continue Reading
In memory of LHI. My mind is full, butMy mouth is empty.I scribble the mind onto another pageWithout speaking.I have grief on my mind,Of an unknown kind. II. The taste… Continue Reading
The sky looks further away through the camera, And smaller, Not endless like we expect it to be, And the moon looks tiny. The screen lies. When you listened to… Continue Reading
The darkness is our friend.I said that when you were little.I still say it. On a different soil, then,We chased a storm together,And its thunder.We reached it sooner than we… Continue Reading
The moon, steeped in old blood,Sighs below the horizon, waiting,Waiting for the sun,Opposite axis,Opposite pole,Opposing light. She moves, airless,Anticipates,A rock for a heart,The warmth to melt it,To feel again. For… Continue Reading
end-of-summer webs woven against the walland the cloud an ovaryacross the moonswaysthe evening stillcoolbreath standingin the vacuum life as slow as lifeand faster than lightthe cosmoswe are the cosmos we… Continue Reading
I am a man of sand. All about me is constructed and mechanical My automatic brain tells me Until I wake and can’t move For the tiredness in every cell… Continue Reading
There was alwaysA weakness in the argument,Time or religion or bed-time,No agreement ever in any argumentBecause nothing can be agreedAs long as the world turnsAnd writing deciphers riddlesAnd makes them…. Continue Reading
Saturday was more of a day away from the campaign trail than on it. I’d been asked a long time ago to do a set of poetry at the Turn… Continue Reading
That night,Under the full moon,At the bottom of the garden,I toasted you with the last can of beer I had,You and your mother, already upstairs,You new, in the old basketNext… Continue Reading