Pageviews past week

Friday, September 20, 2013



That same darn moon with its two full letters
smack in the middle of its name.  It saw us
Here but the moon, it don’t say nothing to us
Anymore.  Just pours that dead grass light
All over the place while we take a short walk
Between the house and the far shed.  We forgot
That three horse harness and remembered we
Were going to use it in the morning and there
Was the moon, waiting for us, partially behind a 
Stand of oaks, waiting for the change in the weather,
“Just like us.”, you said pulling the tack down from
The hooks.  “Just look at that light out there tonight.
Can’t keep it outside at all, crawling all over us
Pale light golden as dream over the whole place.”

Thursday, September 19, 2013


Terry Schoonhaven

Paulo Paulauskas


Angels in large groups are seen
Flying away from cities.
We look underneath our beds and find
Sparks of light smoldering, glints off
Silver and gold baubles left there
So they may be understood as gifts
To others, as a kind of braille to help
Describe wonder and its patterns
Through our nervous system like
Crying children afraid to be left
This alone.  We watch the angels
Depart.  There is little we can do.

The glaciers have receded. So much
More land has been revealed than
We are able to understand.  We are
Offered places to live, carved from stone
By huge sheets of ice.  Lakes are everywhere.

There is really no place to go when
We finally realize the extent of the
Angel exodus.  We look for wings, hope
We may join them, seek other ways
To understand everything that has happened.
Do you remember who I am?
Do you remember that I love you?

Wednesday, September 18, 2013



I have plans for you and have
The names of ships you may board
That will take you to islands, to lands
Where strange things, there the Bong tree
Grows or fairies might gather
By fires at night and warm the
Long ropes of their noses, they do,
And warm the long ropes of their noses.

I will teach you to spell, to light
Saint Elmo’s fire on the top of the mast
And loose it from your mouth
To frighten the birds of the far lands
Who will cluster in toward you
To hear your stories,  If you 
Come to the places I’d lead you,
If you’ll sail on the ships of the night.

Their voices will rise and mix
With the chorus that rides
From the waves to the sky.  There are
Legions that dwell in the depths
Of my body and serve the
Legends of men.  Yes, they do,
They enhance all the legends of men.

And yes, I will go, for my breath
Has the salt as the eye of the dawn
Is blood red and I’ll notch
My footsteps to the heave of the decks
And I’ll sail on forever and then some.

I’ll sail us on through the doors of the night,
You shall see me as a ghost on fogged mornings.  
I’ll be sailing us on through the doors of the night.
Let this dream of the sea be your warning. 

Monday, September 16, 2013


This poem is the title poem from 'a selxn of poems by D.R. Wagner' published by GREEN PANDA PRESS, CLEVELAND, OHIO 2012


The last of nothing drifts by.
All of space is now occupied.
We are now ready to receive
The Holy Spirit.  It does not

Come as tongues of flame,
But occupies the cells of the body
Like crowded subway cars at night,
Full of dozing riders and people
Reading books as if their life depended on it.

We cross the tracks carefully.
We are unable to recognize anyone
We pass.  Balloons of vision lift
From the clouds of people, rise up,
Are lost in a reaching of hands to grasp
The colorful strings dangling from them.

The gift of tongues is ours once more.
Touch our hand and you shall be healed.
No one believes this to be true.  We buy food,
Giving away bars of chocolate and plastic
Wrapped sandwiches.  Some shed tears,
Thanking us as we move forward.

Times like this will come again.
The seas lash the shores.  Tornados
Sweep the kingdom.  Fire consumes
All that is left.  We suffer fools
With their predictions and admonitions.

This is indeed pentecost.  We can not name it other.
Illuminated display boards at the exits flash
Our names and show grainy images of what
We are supposed to look like.  We lose
Ourselves in the crowd, the buzz of understood
Conversations in every language of the world.

Sunday, September 15, 2013



There is never evidence of when
I have made love to you.
The wind addresses the sails
But the tales could be of anyone.

I am just beyond this room
Where the tops of trees
Can show me only the flights of birds.
Then the music fades as if it
Hadn’t expected anyone to be
Listening to it carefully.

So I’ll tell you once again.
This is my heart.  I love you.
It washes away in the wind.
I am confused by the way words
Want to push me away here
And allow a blank white 
Chariot to stand ready but unwilling
To make any move.

I grab  the reins totally uninformed.
I see you there before me.
I can learn. I will know your song.
Sing it to me..