Between Two Rivers

Personal Statement (II)

In continuation of what I was thinking and feeling earlier. For G. C.

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June 7, 2024

adjustment, America, Belgium, conversions, driving, Ghent, moving, New Jersey, observations, personal statement, Poetry, walking
Magnifico’s

An epiphany

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June 6, 2024

epiphany, free verse, ice cream, Magnifico’s, New Jersey, poetics, Poetry, summer, sunset
Field Notes: The Sea at Raritan Bay

For all who are on the other side of the sea.

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June 5, 2024

Belgium, coast, Field Notes, free verse, New Jersey, Oostende, Poetry, Raritan Bay, sea, spring, waves
Six Poems without Context

Written for June 4th. In memory of what refuses to be forgotten.
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June 4, 2024

birds, concrete poetry, context, flowers, haiku, history, loss, memory, Poetry, sonnet, spring
In a field I am always visible
After Mark Strand.
```
1.      
In a field
I am always visible,
waiting for my

absence
to register as
presence.
```
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June 3, 2024

absence, contact, conversation, distance, free verse, Painting, Poetry, solitude, visibility, Whitney Museum of American Art, writing
Abstractions: My New Shoes

Taking a brief break from writing to share two abstract paintings I’ve done that are inspired by my (still) new shoes, which have happily brought me back to many familiar haunts over the past week.
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June 2, 2024

abstract painting, acrylic, Painting, picture framing, shoes
Sonnets: 14th

Four sonnets, loosely conceived (i.e., typed on my phone) in connection to 14th St., the frontier between Lower Manhattan and the rest of the world.
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June 1, 2024

homecoming, memory, New York, PATH train, Poetry, sonnet, Strand Books, Union Square, urban landscape, Whitney Museum of American Art
Life Is Good

At the Highland Park Farmers Market.

May 31, 2024

farmer’s market, good life, Highland Park, New Jersey, summer
Local English: A Monologue

Alright—no flights of fancy, no twisted syntax. Let’s just talk.

No, sorry: I’ll talk to you first, and then we’ll see where this goes.
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May 30, 2024

adjustment, America, Belgium, English, Europe, homecoming, language, New Jersey, speech, voice

A Thunderstorm Rolls through Central Jersey at Eight P.M.

and somehow I'd forgotten what a good storm brings—

not just the applauding rain and waterfall-whistling 

of falling water-wind, but the eerie glow of 

the interior of the house. Not an absence

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May 30, 2024

darkness, form, light, New Jersey, Poetry, rain, shadow, thunderstorm, weather