it’s been a while, a poem
Boxed in by storage challengesWanting to be lost in the beauty ofDesign and art and full book shelvesOne voice screamsAnother, drips tearsThe third, finds a smileBetween…
‘The beech blooms first…’ a poem
The beech blooms first, he noted on A walk around Simmons Mill Pond Where once farmers had carved Lands with stone walls now icons Of a…
Choose Not the Firecat, after Stevens’ Earthy Anecdote, a poem by Stephen Fuller
I choose not the firecat, insteadA bobcat, though still it bristlesIn the way of clattering bucks.If being the bobcat, I mustStand with hair up on my…
As the Canadian Geese Fly Over in Formation
What does the man say when he wears a gold lamé ballcapAfraid to commit to the grilled cheeseStraddling the picnic bench, bellyDipping over the side of…
“Like white lace crumbled in night’s hand,” a poem by Stephen Fuller
Like white lace crumbled in night’s hand The snow fell to earth, a warehouse For memories each toile and cordonnet Wove between picots melting away into…
Poem for Sundance, after Fleetwod Mac, Crosby, Stills and Nash …
How do we capture the suite of life:Blue eyes, brown eyes, these eyesSee what the cake tastes, savorEach layer with me, what comes.So, yes, it’s hard.…
We Gather
We gather. Together. Let our masksDown only to take a bite or imbibeA liquored dose of what we need.Our distance adequate for loveTo bloom over other…
I Wake Laughing
I wake laughingFinally, everyone in on the joke, my dream shakes my belly and I wakeLaughing. Not screaming as has beenThe case. Good. I wake laughing.I…
The Silence Rumbled, or the poem written in response to the Go Dog Go Tuesday prompt written while eating a chocolate croissant.
The silence that rumbled in my heart Seeks solace, concocts words in verse For a layered pastry filled with bitter-sweet Chocolate. I am the butter spread…
Always Remember, juvenilia poetry by Stephen Fuller
As I continue my March long visit back to 1985, the year poetry began for me, I share the first poem I wrote. Enjoy! September 10,…
