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The Big Apple as Solo Inferno

Bessie Hoopaw was a single lady
friend of our family. She told
our father her dream was to
drive herself through downtown
New York City. So, one summer,
as we were headed from our
Maryland suburb of Washington,
D.C. to Upstate New York for
vacation in the Adirondacks,
Dad, a fan of Dante’s Inferno,
told Ms. Hoopaw just to follow
our car and keep close! and he’d
lead her through the Big Apple.
And he did, somehow managing,
red lights and all, to keep her in
our rearview mirror, his Virgil
to Ms. Hoopaw’s trip through Hell.

Read More Poems From the New York Almanack HERE.

‘Wir Haben Wegener Gefunden. Tod Im Eis.’

Alfred Wegener theorized continental drift
long before anyone had means to prove it.
Ships mapping the ocean floors with sonar
would later discover the tectonic plates.
You can visually slide the continent Africa
into the Americas like completing a puzzle,
not to mention ancestral plants and animals
common to the long-divorced continents.
Ever intrepid, Wegener was later found
frozen in the Greenland Ice Cap. His
discoverers would then write that—
“We have found Wegener dead in the ice.”
It had more punch in the original German:
“Wir haben Wegener gefunden. Tod im Eis.”
Fellow geologists got their come-uppance
for dissing Wegener. Now we live in fear his
plates might rub each other the wrong way.

Read More Poems From the New York Almanack HERE.

Andaman

Islands rising from the sea, misty images in the night,
Palm leaves rustle in the breeze,
A sliver of moonlight tints the sky.
Grains of sand are sailing high, carried on the wind,
Time, as always, passes by,
With no recollection of where it’s been.

Ocean’s waters rise and fall,
Powdered clouds drift by above,
Mountain streams come trickling down,
Playing melancholy tunes on vibes of stone.
Sun shines down on fields of green,
Sweet scents permeate the humid air,
Wheat fields swaying, keeping time
To an ancient rhythm, Nature’s beat,
No words are needed……. this part’s divine.

Read More Poems From the New York Almanack HERE.

Short Answers to 22 Writing Prompts

Years
Baseball cards
Being awake
Mighty Mouse
Wedding ring
All the time

Buying books, even blank books
I wore my Army dress uniform
Poetry impeded my career
. . . against hope
It was a womb substitute
Mealtimes
A thoughts generator

I still feel embarrassed but don’t know why
It had a gabled ceiling and sunken floor
I was a Woodrow Wilson Fellow thought stupid

No, I never fell in love online
When the bread wouldn’t rise
Keyboarding a clean copy
All my excuses for not writing
My inner truth buzzer blares
Offer me ice cream.

Read More Poems From the New York Almanack HERE.

Metaphysics with No Sunblock

If the crescendo of soundbites
holds you back from that inner
silence touted as metaphysical

just turn your eyeballs inward
where it’s dark inside your head.
Now, conjure up a placid river

Then watch just how cautiously
deer come down to drink as you
imagine floating by on your back

trusting the river’s buoyancy.
But try not to think things
like: “I should wear sunblock.”

Read More Poems From the New York Almanack HERE.

Lunacy

Inflation is the whip, greed is its master,
Scheming megalomaniacs creating mass disaster,
For all of those people, psychological slaves,
Caught up in the whirlwind, a shuttle to their graves.

Life too complicated for mankind to enjoy,
Overpopulated, the Land being destroyed,
Hard to find a place alone, with room to wander free,
Now plugged in from dawn to dusk, electronic lunacy.

Wires dangling from the ears, fingers pushing keys,
Prisoners in concrete towers, away from Nature’s breeze,
Glued to screens for endless hours, not outside in the sun,
Better re-evaluate, for time is on the run.

Read More Poems From the New York Almanack HERE.

About The Way

I’m impassioned, yet bewildered, at how to right the wrong,
Put my feelings into words, and make it come off strong,
About the error in our direction, about the flaws in the plan,
About the disrespect for Nature, about the shortcomings in man.

We are creatures of the land, and the sustenance it brings,
We’re about the natural beauty, and its many wondrous things,
About the mountains and the forests, about the deserts and the seas,
About the rainbows and the flowers, and the joy of being free.

So I grapple with the words, try to make them come out right,
Ponder thoughts throughout the day, re-think them through at night,
About the options that we have, about the life that we could see,
About the balance that’s so possible, about the way that it should be.

Read More Poems From the New York Almanack HERE.