Past few days

Sing to Despair

We sing to
the despair
of the air

dip the pen,
start again

there's more passion
in your sadness
than I find
in a roomful
of gladness;

Hearts and flowers
may do
for hours, or even days -
but it's the angst
we remember,
so my dear and fair,
sing to the
despair of the air.

rc

Some new writings

The Miser

His own wealth
will be his undoing.

His house will crumble,
his wife grow cold.

For him nothing learned
in growing old.

Too much chocolate
palls the savor;

Money too
loses its flavor.

rc
5/28/17


Poets, male vs. female

I think that the poetic voices of men are distinctive and different, but the writings of women poets can be rolled into one.  Do not misinterpret this to mean that I think it is in any way inferior or less various.  But women seem to have, even in the most isolated circumstances, a Great Binding Sisterhood.

rc
6/1/17


Crying at weddings and funerals

Some of us, that is, many more than you might think, have an aversion to weddings and funerals because we are crying most of the time already.  There is no need to slot "crying" into our schedule.

It is mostly the bride who cries during and for many years after the wedding.  And a child who has lost or had absent family relationships will cry for all her life.

rc
6/1/17