Category Archives: Summer

West Point, Once Upon a Time

An old brown dog of no particular breed Lay in the shade with his tongue hanging out. In a sprawl of poplar behind the barn A cat’s ears flattened, scolded by swallows. Late July, and the western capes crumbled In … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Autobiographical, Couplets, Cryptomnesia, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, South Shore, Summer, Tide, Time, West Point | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

In Paris. The Portraits

I actually took a commission yesterday to write a poem for the birthday of a friend of a friend. It was a fun and interesting exercise. I worked mostly from a list sent to me of associations and interests of … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cliches, Commissions, Creativity, John MacKenzie, Mythology, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Process, Summer, The Moon, The Sea, The Wind, Tide, Time, Venus | 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

Vanishing Point (Little Sands, PEI)

I was sent a fine, short, dark image the other day about stillness in Little Sands. It precipitated this poem since I have felt at the water that sort of stillness that seems both complete and empty at once. I think it … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Astronomy, Astrophysics, Cosmology, Epistemology, Ghazal, Gravity, John MacKenzie, Little Sands, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Process, Science, Space, Summer, The Moon, The Sky, Tide, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Behind the Dance of Moon

Maybe tonight you will hear how the stars whisper behind the dance of moon tangling seaweed

Posted in Astrophysics, Cinquain, Cosmology, Gravity, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Science, Summer, The Moon, Tide, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Another Night Done

Weaving home through crowds— another night done in this bagsticker July below clouds like torn, piss-stained sheets under the turnt up moon

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Summer, Tanka, The Moon, The Sky | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

After a Hurricane

The tide green and full in the harbour, the contrary remaining winds stipple the taut swell like skin after a shiver. More rain and lightning in the forecast; the clouds still thick and dark in the west with a chance … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Consciousness, Epistemology, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Sonnet, Summer, The Brain, The Moon, The Rain, The Sea, The Sky, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment