Tag Archives: cemetery

Euclid vs. The Slow Worms

Every spring, spades turn warming soil Over and mound it up in rows. The spaced seeds germinate while The furious sun grows old. The slow worms under the garden Squirm through their loose knots and tangles, Keep the soil aerated, … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Astronomy, Biology, Cemetery, Cliches, Crows, Gulls, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Earth, The Sky, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Everyday Math

The ring-billed gulls descending over the low tide slant of shingle toward dark mudflats are a litter of dirty-white scrap paper scrawled with derivatives measuring the changes of functions in differential equations. Across the harbour the calculus continues; considers a … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Astrophysics, Biology, Cemetery, Charlottetown, Chemistry, Consciousness, Creativity, Death, Epistemology, Evolution, Gulls, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Language, Mathematics, Memory, Neuroscience, New poems, Physics, Poem tweets, Poetry, Prose poem, Science, The Brain, Time, West River | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

My Brother’s Deaths (poems from old notebooks, sometime in 1986)

This is the first successful poem I wrote, and it was an island in a sea of crap. It was a long time—at least two years—before I managed to write another piece that I would now consider worth calling a … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Cemetery, Creativity, Death, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Memory, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Poetics, Poetry, Process, Summer, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Flowers, Satin and Silk (poems from old notebooks, July 1994)

I just keep digging ’em up…. Flowers, Satin and Silk The headstones were white as teeth in the cemetery’s constant grin. The trees rustled like money and grass pinned back the hole. The coffin slouched on canvas straps, the preacher … Continue reading

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When March Promises Magnolias

When March Promises Magnolias “… that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.” —George Eliot, Middlemarch: … Continue reading

Posted in Art is theft, Cemetery, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Tanka | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

My Favourite Cemetery; and Plan Your Own Funeral with Aaron Freeman

We’ve entered March, and thoughts and images of spring are creeping into our heads, from its early, threadbare days patched with churned mud, last year’s yellow grass, and the grey, shrinking remnants of snow through the first wistful wisps of … Continue reading

Posted in Astrophysics, Cemetery, Death, Epistemology, Funeral, Memory, Science, Spring | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment