Thursday, February 17, 2011

Jim Spitzer/Jack Crimmins/Coletti's Heart/Miles Frode/

Man only plays when in the full meaning of the word he is a man,
and he is only completely a man when he plays.

Friedrich Schiller



http://www.jimspitzerart.com/


Jack Crimmins Poem in
Lilliput Review

The Sea Is Near Us

Always we are made
of what is lost.
Fractures in the soul
heal as we age.
The kites tread the air
near the vultures.
I still dance and chant
sometimes before the moon.





http://www.flickr.com/photos/edcolettipaintings/


what else?

when this body is gone

gone

when any body is gone

even gone

by its own hand,

even when it’s rotted

from cancer or burned

like a witch in the fire

it’s gone

as when my father’s ashes

on a shelf in the closet

appropriately weighing

twice as much as

my mother’s ashes

next to his

on that same closet shelf

merely simulate

presence

what else

I wonder

what else?

-- ed coletti (2010)












milesfrode@gmail.com






















Poetry Azul Flier by Ray Swaney

tedateamerica@gmail.com

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