I love your newsletter anyway, but these came across my feed just as I was asking myself, does anyone on here just post poems? I had been thinking about whether or not that’s really what I want to use my newsletter for. That’s a longer (internal) discussion, but the universe answered my question!
The first one is especially compelling in a tragic sort of way. And Asparagus reminds me of the breakfast I have been thinking about preparing: a flank of salmon and a row of asparagus cooked in a pan with olive oil. I need to go shopping!
Love the steamed green stalks of asparagus. Be sure to add dill weed to the water when steaming. And how we can start fires by making clenched fists. Thank you for your poetry.
I don’t see the contradictions. Many tones for many subjects. I started to get nostalgic after you posted about monsters. No not nostalgia more on the traumas. My short piece I wrote called four horses was a fictional piece but influenced by my youth living on a gravel road with two other homes. These held monsters, sadistic children and their very twisted families. Yet my family survived and the bucolic rural forests above the hood river out my door gave me great memories.
I love your newsletter anyway, but these came across my feed just as I was asking myself, does anyone on here just post poems? I had been thinking about whether or not that’s really what I want to use my newsletter for. That’s a longer (internal) discussion, but the universe answered my question!
Lovely. thanks
dear sherman,
beautiful as always.
i love Rage (the poem, not the concept):
"Your hands are ten arsonists
setting fires
whenever you make fists."
simple, elegant, perfect.
thank you for sharing!
love
myq
Thank you, Myq!
The first one is especially compelling in a tragic sort of way. And Asparagus reminds me of the breakfast I have been thinking about preparing: a flank of salmon and a row of asparagus cooked in a pan with olive oil. I need to go shopping!
I love pan salmon and asparagus! Love love love.
Trees are the churches, I’ve always believed
Trees are the spires of Nature’s wiser religion.
They point to the Sun.
The asparagus scepter -- love it. Though asparagus humbles all who love it later on with its odoriferous effects. I rather expected that comic turn!
Hahahahahaha.
Something regal is stirrin'
in that asparagus urine.
“Belief”! What a joy.
Thank you, Madisen.
beautiful!
Thank you, Sheila.
Love the steamed green stalks of asparagus. Be sure to add dill weed to the water when steaming. And how we can start fires by making clenched fists. Thank you for your poetry.
Love. ♥️
Thanks, Susan!
If we could all find and keep the love that resides in your marital bed...
I would say you and Diane are both very lucky, but luck's only the beginning of the story.
Thanks, Jane.
"you are the sweetest eclipse" -- perfect!
Thanks, Liz.
💜💜💜
Thanks, Pallas.
Thanks Sherman!
Thanks, Suzanne.
thank you so much! LOVE these.
Thank you, Antonia.
Thank you for your poetry, prose and novels. You are a diamond. A little rough. Sometimes obsidian. I’m glad I see your posts.
Well, I wouldn't be a good writer if I weren't heavy with contradictions!
I don’t see the contradictions. Many tones for many subjects. I started to get nostalgic after you posted about monsters. No not nostalgia more on the traumas. My short piece I wrote called four horses was a fictional piece but influenced by my youth living on a gravel road with two other homes. These held monsters, sadistic children and their very twisted families. Yet my family survived and the bucolic rural forests above the hood river out my door gave me great memories.
I turned the bed and put on
clean sheets and a fresh duvet.
Mary likes this this way. She said “ might I sleep here tonight under the open window?
I said “ please do and yes you may.