Author Archives: tamolantern@gmail.com
Spring
Spring To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as … Continue reading
Whatif
Whatif Last night, while I lay thinking here, some Whatifs crawled inside my ear and pranced and partied all night long and sang their same old Whatif song: Whatif I’m dumb in school? Whatif they’ve closed the swimming pool? Whatif … Continue reading
It is fixed, it is fixed, IT. IS. Fixed.
Wahoo!!!! And thank goodness! It appears to be fixed. I will play catch up as quickly as I can. Thank you for your patience. Apparently, it was a “plug in” issue. Something they added on that not only didn’t work … Continue reading
April closing …
So, thanks again for another great year. Apologies if it seemed a little more harried or hectic than usual. I will be correcting the rest of the formatting issues on the website very shortly. I hope you took the time … Continue reading
Up-Hill
Up-Hill Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.Will the day’s journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend.But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for … Continue reading
Syracuse Poet Honored & Bill Murray Bonus (Happy Friday!)
http://www.oprah.com/oprahsbookclub/Bill-Murrays-Favorite-Poems_1Be sure to check out the video of Bill Murray reading poetry to construction workers (in follow up to a previous friday bonus)! A little further down the page after the article is another video of a really nice reading … Continue reading
What We Want
What We WantWhat we wantis never simple.We move among the thingswe thought we wanted:a face, a room, an open bookand these things bear our names-now they want us.But what we want appearsin dreams, wearing disguises.We fall past, holding out our … Continue reading
The Thinker
The ThinkerMy wife’s new pink slippers have gay pom-poms.There is not a spot or a stainon their satin toes or their sides.All night they lie together under the bed’s edge.Shivering I catch sight of themand smile, in the morning.Later I watch … Continue reading
Another Poem About My Father
Another Poem About My FatherI don’t get poetry either. Mostly I get cavities,ad mail. Once, I got eleven hundred dollarsin small change from my father for Christmas.He said, you’ve got to work for your money-meaning you’ve got to haul it through … Continue reading