“Inherited Wealth”— I especially connected to that poem because I pray to whomever the person who needs prayers believes in. As for me, I have no religion (unless you consider ‘Pagan Anti-theist’ a religion). Thank you for your writings.
Oh man with the holidays I haven’t had time to read much. This is my “volume down” week in life. Jim’s birthday is the first and even after 8 years it’s still a hard time. Reading your poems are brutally beautiful. Where does love go after we lose people we love but where does pain go? Idk but, it makes me happy that your writing feelings that mostly don’t have words ❤️ Limlmtx 💔
I love these collections of short poems. So much meaning in so few words. "we fragile humans" need to be shaken and stirred emotionally(no pun intended) to be reminded to remain awake and aware. As always, thank you for sharing your words.
I draw every day with pen and ink on paper. My first drawings were done with my finger in dusty Vallejo dirt at the end of the first half of the 20th century. When making these poems did you stare at your paper/screen until it began to bleed, as Hemingway described? Or did the words appear from a place only you could be? I rarely see blood when I’m drawing... it’s more like scratching an itch that I can’t quite get at. These short poems and “Pachyderm” cut pretty deep. Thank you!
Thank you, Tom. Words and phrases jump in my head for a while before they hit the page. But, sometimes, especially with short poems, they arrive almost instantly.
Lots of interesting father and son insights here like: He wants/ to haunt me / but he can only/ enter my home / if I write him / into my poems.
Regarding Emily Dickinson's desk ... Herman Melville wrote on a table in his home called Arrowhead. The table is now in a museum. But what got me when I stood in the second-story library was the view outside the window of Mount Greylock. When covered with snow, it resembled a white whale. And that I was told was the inspiration for Moby-Dick.
It's good to read your poems again. It somehow conveyed that all is right with the world if Sherman is producing poetry and I am reading it. For just that brief flash òf time, the world was lit by magic. Even though I knew it was a lie. It was enough.
All of these poems go straight to my heart and spirit, especially the one about your salmon teachers.
I've sensed a kinship with Emily Dickinson in your short poems. "History is always closer than we think." My grandparents were alive at the same time as Crazy Horse and Emily Dickinson. I lived just east of Boston briefly. That was during the winter of 1973-74 when I was 24 years old. Wish I had known to visit Amherst.
“Inherited Wealth”— I especially connected to that poem because I pray to whomever the person who needs prayers believes in. As for me, I have no religion (unless you consider ‘Pagan Anti-theist’ a religion). Thank you for your writings.
re: that last one... Man, do I feel that! There was a time when I woke up disappointed to still be alive, now I don't want to miss a thing!
That's great to hear about your joy!
Oh man with the holidays I haven’t had time to read much. This is my “volume down” week in life. Jim’s birthday is the first and even after 8 years it’s still a hard time. Reading your poems are brutally beautiful. Where does love go after we lose people we love but where does pain go? Idk but, it makes me happy that your writing feelings that mostly don’t have words ❤️ Limlmtx 💔
These are such beautiful pieces, I am torn choosing my favorite! Definitely saving this!
Thank you!
I love these collections of short poems. So much meaning in so few words. "we fragile humans" need to be shaken and stirred emotionally(no pun intended) to be reminded to remain awake and aware. As always, thank you for sharing your words.
Beautiful Sherman. 🙏
I draw every day with pen and ink on paper. My first drawings were done with my finger in dusty Vallejo dirt at the end of the first half of the 20th century. When making these poems did you stare at your paper/screen until it began to bleed, as Hemingway described? Or did the words appear from a place only you could be? I rarely see blood when I’m drawing... it’s more like scratching an itch that I can’t quite get at. These short poems and “Pachyderm” cut pretty deep. Thank you!
Thank you, Tom. Words and phrases jump in my head for a while before they hit the page. But, sometimes, especially with short poems, they arrive almost instantly.
Honour Song For Dianne.
A beautiful, stately ,dignified love poem.
There's passion and an overwhelming sense of spiritual connection here.
I'm enjoying these short poems very much, the distillation.. Sanctity.
Ngā mihi Sherman.
Thank you. I like the description of "distillation."
Lots of interesting father and son insights here like: He wants/ to haunt me / but he can only/ enter my home / if I write him / into my poems.
Regarding Emily Dickinson's desk ... Herman Melville wrote on a table in his home called Arrowhead. The table is now in a museum. But what got me when I stood in the second-story library was the view outside the window of Mount Greylock. When covered with snow, it resembled a white whale. And that I was told was the inspiration for Moby-Dick.
My (almost) 5 year old son asked for me to reread aloud multiple times-to draw the attention of babes is the true victory! Thanks for this moment.
That's awesome!
Lifespan. A parents wish. Thank you.
Thank you, Cecilia.
Life Span takes me by surprise every time, always feels like the first time I read it...
Thank you, Chloe.
It's good to read your poems again. It somehow conveyed that all is right with the world if Sherman is producing poetry and I am reading it. For just that brief flash òf time, the world was lit by magic. Even though I knew it was a lie. It was enough.
All of these poems go straight to my heart and spirit, especially the one about your salmon teachers.
I've sensed a kinship with Emily Dickinson in your short poems. "History is always closer than we think." My grandparents were alive at the same time as Crazy Horse and Emily Dickinson. I lived just east of Boston briefly. That was during the winter of 1973-74 when I was 24 years old. Wish I had known to visit Amherst.
Dickinson is one of my very favorite poets. Maybe my very favorite. Thank you!
Father song! the best! You are at your best when writing about your father.
Thank you, Vijaya.
Simply: WOWSA!!!!!
Especially: Life Span!!!!!!
Thank you, Lenora