Poet Commentaries

That Which is Crooked…..

What is crooked cannot be made straight.  Make that statement to a poet and you get a better understanding.  The following were just a few of many unique takes.



the best education in time
comes not from reading theoretical papers
by the likes of Einstein and Hawking,
but from listening to those moments
we cannot undo:
the brother we did not speak our love to
until his flag-draped casket
was lowered into the dirt
the biker we did not see
as we turned from sun into shady street,
until we felt the crunch
of carbonite against grill
the ranting e-mail we sailed into the void
that found its way
to our boss’s wide eyeseach moment followed swiftly
by denial:“that didn’t just happen”and the delusion that somehow
–if only in our dreams—

what’s done can be undone.

Snake straight and oiled well

The country seems much paler, slower,
injured or in poor health;
last night was rain for hours, an animal
licking its wounds, but nowhere near
the amount necessary to heal
or cleanse.
Morning is a bandage
that doesn’t stick, the sky is so full
of blown smoke the sun is little more
than spray-on shine.
Anything bird
flew two months ago and certainly
their view was a world in a backwards


two deer stare from where a forest
breaks, they watch a species similar
to human but far too filled with empty,
a television likeness at best,

more the way a sink
streaks with orange stain
where even the white
is being drained of its color.


Brown Paper Bag

trudging to the station after the tedium of a hectic day
I got to the train, out of breath, shushing the crowd all the way
waiting to get to my seat impatiently, all I could do was pray
let my grumbling tummy be silent before it could devour its prey!
on the way to the station I had seen the hot and spicy pakoday
famished and tired, my taste buds were clamoring for their pay!
bought in haste, I had put in a brown paper bag the spicy pakoday
I could hardly wait to reach my seat and eat them without delay!
sitting on the next seat, glared a middle aged gentleman turning grey
not happy with the rush hour bustle, I thought, he can never be gay!
I was relieved to get a seat to rest myself finally, but hey!
next to me was the unpleasant looking gentleman scowling away!
I closed my eyes for a few minutes leaning my back on the seat
the train started to move slowly chugging out sounding retreat
I was unaware of how long I had been dozing on my seat
waking up suddenly by a jerk, I instantly remembered, to eat


I found my brown paper bag on the side table of the seat
holding my hand out I tried to pull it towards me to eat
feeling some resistance, I looked up in bewildered haste
the unpleasant gentleman was tugging at my bag with distaste

I was livid with rage, I cannot let my precious bag go out of sight
he was also enraged, he too tugged at it hard, ready to fight
the tug of war turned into a battle of wits, neither relenting a bit
I was never going to surrender to anyone, let alone this scowling nitwit!

finally I won, I snatched my bag and started to devour its content
ravenous I was, now jubilant to have defeated the man’s intent
reaching home tired and weary from the day’s strenuous incident
unpacking my bag, my jaw dropped to see my brown paper bag, intact..!!

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