Monthly Archives: August 2014

Language is Hollow

It was mentioned to me yesterday that I haven’t been writing much. So I wrote. Language is Hollow for Megan Burke My language is grim because I was born in mid-century shadows cast by mushroom clouds, eyes narrowed against brightness … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Charlottetown, Epistemology, Gulls, Harbour, Hunger, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Poverty, Science, Social Commentary, The Earth, The Sea, The Sky, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Old Men In Love

Old men in love, awakening stiff In their joints and contemplating the hard Task of getting up into the day, Dream of past mornings. They remember cocked Hips and bent knees, and the pressing Engagements that rose reliably as green … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Consciousness, Harbour, Hillsborough River, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Social Commentary, Sonnet, Spring, Summer, Tide, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Darkness Settles Early

Darkness Settles Early The end of August. The turning wind edges north. Though darkness settles Early now, the evening crows Find their way home. Where are you?* *Tankas really are country songs.

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Autumn, Country music, Crows, John MacKenzie, Mary Gauthier, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Tanka, The Wind, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

An Island Mother’s Son (revision from August 2, 2013*)

When springtime winds and lilacs are entangled in their throes, and while summer elms and lindens stretch out their limbs with groans, you’ll see a man whose mother, back when he was green and slim, fastened the ropes of her desire to root … Continue reading

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Count Up the Things That’ll Always Be (The Entropy of Bitter Coffee, a country song)

It was long after midnight when I heard you knock ‘Cause you couldn’t get your goddamn key in the lock. I didn’t say nothing when I let you in But the coffee this morning’s as bitter as sin. Chorus We met … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Astrophysics, Cosmology, Country music, Country song, Crows, Gravity, John MacKenzie, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Social Commentary, The Moon, The Sky, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment