A Poem by Hazel Anna Rogers
I wake, open, Into the arms of the gentle night. Not yet do the silhouettes of naked boughs Charm the light, Nor has the soft chatter of sharp beaks Set […]
This. That. Bric-a-brac.
I wake, open, Into the arms of the gentle night. Not yet do the silhouettes of naked boughs Charm the light, Nor has the soft chatter of sharp beaks Set […]
by Carl Kruse My friend Monica’s mom ended her life following years of chronic pain and Monica penned this poem for her. At first I thought Monica had not titled […]
By Fraser Hibbitt There is something lovable in the cursory brain. I had read Virginia Woolf describing the poet, Coleridge, as ravenously talking for hours on end about anything his […]
In long-drawn moments of dusk Shadows are bold companions Birds grow silent and keep night’s secrets. Contact: carl AT carlkruse DOT com Check out some of the poetry of […]
Here are three poems from my friend Otho Campbell. He has not titled them and so I have named them a la Emily Dickinson, which is to say titling them […]
Kuei-shan asked Yun-yen, “What is the seat of enlightenment?” Yun-yen said, “Freedom from artificiality.”- Kuei-shan (771-854)Freedom from artificiality. I like that. Carl Kruse