Losing my zen when I complain of rain. Atonement: A haiku for my grandmother who said I would be a teacher, but never saw me become one. I miss her homemade bread, soup, and pasta and the way she laughed. And, really, she’s one of the reasons that I have very little to complain about. … Continue reading Haiku Humpday
I’ve always loved this holiday’s artwork, but I recently found out that many folks write satirical epitaphs for the living called calaveras or “skulls.” Here’s mine: Here Lies McClurg He had but only one wish, To play in his native English, But his eyes, they teared, As he sniffed and feared, “They’ll only remember the … Continue reading Happy Day of the Dead!
Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) ~from Song of Myself by Walt Whitman I couldn’t help but notice that after I posted about reading more nonfiction, I posted about beginning The Iliad. So it goes. Thinking about Whitman also gets me thinking about his catalogues … Continue reading Never Listless
It’s rare that I ever have a creatively useful dream. Most of the time my dreams are more like murmurs in a theater or bad action movie sequences. Not much useful there. Every now and then something happens that just stays with me. Here is one of the very few poems that I have pieced … Continue reading My dreams rarely interfere.
For the past few years I have been working on a series of prose poems. As with most of my writing, it’s not happened as quickly as I would have wanted. I’m used to it; I’m a slow cooker, a crock pot. Here’s one that was published in Project for a New Mythology: And Wait … Continue reading Prose Poems
Stephen McClurg 