By Thomas Page I count, once again, The fifteen ornaments that Hang from the garlands I am the guard of The door marked “Elves only.” Kids Love to make for it. The river frozen, Labored frigid breaths escape From chilled lungs and tongues The trees dead jutting Out of graying, cold hillsides. The year is … Continue reading Tommy Haiku #146-151
Catlogues, Form and Fuction, Birds on a Telephone Wire
“Catalogues” Catalogues online are very Hard because out-of-stock items Disappear forever. Excuse Me, I was trying to find that Shirt in my size, now it’s gone for Eternity. Eons upon Eons I must live without that Shirt—age of frustrated shopping. “Form and Function” Form and function in a poem serve As a guide and game … Continue reading Catlogues, Form and Fuction, Birds on a Telephone Wire
Tommy Poems
By Thomas Page “Late December Days” Late December days are just blurs Because of the Yuletide havoc Causing panic amongst shoppers. Can I e’er so gentle be lured To reverie on a hammock Without worry about the toppers On Douglas firs or green spruces? A sense of meeting toward truces. “The Name of This … Continue reading Tommy Poems
Tommy Cinquains 1-3
Cinquains (1/2/3/4/ 1 stresses) A fish Slowly swims in A pond of clear water Hidden by a forest unknown To us Penguins- Antarctic birds- Are associated with Dance for some reason. Well, dance, birds, Dance now An elf Working during The Christmas Season will Look at an advent calendar— Countdown
Lost in Space
By Thomas Page On realizing that a cell phone saves notes to the cloud and not on the memory card. Most of my work is typed on my phone. Why I do this I do not know. Now my notes, Boats on some deep river of the web, now Bow down to some code wrapping … Continue reading Lost in Space
“Stone Cottage”
By Thomas Page A man stands at a precipice, a deluge comes. He allows the soot and ash of a dying age wash over him. Can Cathleen ever be heard again Over the roar of the coming age; an age without reason? A gentle sound interrupts Yeats’ reverie. A young man comes in with … Continue reading “Stone Cottage”
“Akimbo”
By Thomas Page Walt Whitman, he himself, prepares to take a portrait. A portrait of something beyond the Walt that has been know. The Walt of Manhattan, the dandy pedagogue, known for his tendency To prefer the physical over the spiritual To desire what can be attained over what can be inferred He, the … Continue reading “Akimbo”
Then I Left
By Rajnish Mishra, I come home after years and carry bribes along: bribes for minds to remember, to remind me the forgotten me. I carry chocolates for all. Death is of two kinds: permanent or temporary removal from a world. In my world of past I’m dead. I’m dead, nearly, for many. I’m dead … Continue reading Then I Left
Post-Work Remains Left
I forgot the applewood bacon in the work fridge. My mother sleeps on the couch as infomercials promising or your money-back guarantee sins blast like music during a tumbling event. There isn't a single Z for shut-eye for me to borrow this evening, I sweated them out in eight-and-a-half hour aisle increments, but I'll get 'em back … Continue reading Post-Work Remains Left
Academy of the Heart And Mind 