13 Ways of Looking at a Pianoafter Wallace StevensIAmong twenty drowsy Musicians,The only moving thingWas one hammer of the piano.III was of three minds,Like ten fingersPlaying on three pianos.IIIThe piano clinked in theAuditorium’s silence.It was a small part of thePerformance.IVA left hand and right handAre two.A left hand, a right hand and aPianoAre one.VI do… Continue reading 13 Ways of Looking at a Piano
Category: Poem
Under a Bali Moon
Under a Bali Moon Among treetops under a Bali moon moist in the heat after dusk, I’d sat in this spot the year before, came back with a friend in tow. I waited while she lifted her spoon in anticipation. “Luscious.” She licked the caramelized crust, spoon dipping deep scooping up what lurked below. Its… Continue reading Under a Bali Moon
Untuned
Untuned You sit unused under the archway between here and there next to the couch, also black. Don’t know why I avoid you so, I love you so and when we’re together we’re harmoniously transformed. Yet, something’s off. It must be the river, its dampness lingers within you sliding along the skin of your tendons,… Continue reading Untuned
Flesh Eater
“The trouble with a secret life is that it is very frequently a secret from the person who lives it and not at all a secret for the people he encounters.” —James Baldwin, Another Country That’s how James Baldwin describes the fallacy of believing he is living a secret life and how it’s only a… Continue reading Flesh Eater
Wonders of the Invisible World
Back in January I posted a piece about my mother, Venom and Velocity. I wrote about her fascination with tornadoes and what seemed to be her uncanny ability to attract animals, including snakes, and in the most unlikely places. That got me thinking about my 8th great grandmother, Susannah North Martin, who was three times… Continue reading Wonders of the Invisible World
Hold Your Breath
I went to a small choral music school, Westminster Choir College, during the late 1960s. I enjoyed walking into town leaving the campus and turning right onto Hamilton Street until it became Wiggins. When I passed by Princeton Cemetery, I’d love picking up a stick and running it across the iron fence bars as I… Continue reading Hold Your Breath
Theme and Variation on a Pinball Machine in Slow Motion
Rediscovered this relic written when I was a college sophomore, when it seemed we were all writing poetry. The crowded street parts it way as a young boy finds his way through a dreamlike world of games and candy Down warped steps he goes his god to meet a nickel in and then retreat to… Continue reading Theme and Variation on a Pinball Machine in Slow Motion
Touch Hands
Sometimes words, whether a poem, a lyric or a piece of prose, can touch us immediately upon hearing them and stay with us forever. This happened to me during a Christmas Eve service at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Monmouth County in Lincroft, NJ in 1983. I was serving as the church’s music director, so… Continue reading Touch Hands
To a Hijacker Who Left this Morning
When I lived in Alaska we would often roam the main concourse at Anchorage International Airport at night. You didn’t need a ticket for a flight or a reason to be there. We went because it was a place that you could walk around in in the dead of winter in your shirt sleeves. We… Continue reading To a Hijacker Who Left this Morning