tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51904392011-07-30T22:56:21.081-04:00Notes of a Broken Manworkmanpoetryexperiments by WBJ WilliamsWalternoreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-31465145901887449432010-09-07T22:12:00.002-04:002010-09-07T22:17:08.244-04:00The Mirror of My Soulasked the balconywhat it was like out and revealedwhere the winds blowsthrough the iron barsand plays on the hung glasssongs dimly rememberedTo which the balcony repliedhere is where I open tothe chaos of the starslet in the wind and the rainand sometimes the sunon me walk the lovershands in embracebut what do you reflectupon in your meditative glass?The mirror was silentas Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-17119728179539602972009-10-06T16:06:00.002-04:002009-10-06T16:11:44.201-04:00When night is at the thresholdand through the short hours 'till dawnwe put aside our cares and separate struggleshang them with the shirts, or lay them with the socksworn and in need of darningand in embraces passionate and tender we become as onedrifting into together slumberuntil with the cold dawn we redress the caresand try to close the holes in yesterday's sorrowWalternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-3275074222675291922007-05-22T12:45:00.000-04:002007-05-22T12:55:32.078-04:00We enter the room,her hand clasps mineand we share our viewingimages of buildingsframed and hungHopper's attempt to capturelight and shadowsome show snippetsof stories impliedlike the image ofthe rail road caror the summer interiorother paintingssuggest Joni Mitchel songssolidarity with lonelinessfrom light's dialog with shadowand choice of subjectbut we are not isolatedand the light he Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-74618158884153291462007-04-27T11:23:00.000-04:002007-04-27T11:24:23.683-04:00the days have casually slipped together beyond memory to recall more than instants the time has faded from our view me lost in the moonlight some how, I've enraptured you where to moments not begin and end we no longer seem to say goodbye we seem somehow have become apart of the other, not from though days may separate or miles we seem to have a constant togetherness beyond the Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1159296997613095762006-09-26T14:56:00.000-04:002006-09-26T14:56:41.606-04:00the train wanted to bring me to boston as much as I wanted to be broughtas we crept along with all signals broken safety only line of sightlate in coming late in arriving the nearsighted serpent slitheredalong the double steel ribbon caressing the landscapeunder bridges carrying speeding soloists, under buildings of corporate imperial mightto follow the switches meandering to rest next to well Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1158109066276279502006-09-12T20:56:00.000-04:002006-09-20T06:14:29.736-04:00Some Silly Haikusmany empty chairsjokes about traffic delaysempty marketinghe reads from papervoice is a smile, pleasantbut his eyes worry filledto manage identityknow yourself and your avatarsthen manage avatarshow often confusedhow we represent ourselveswith the self we arehow cruel the terms"delete the orphan accounts"a sad twist of wordsWalternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1157573438699143012006-09-06T16:07:00.000-04:002006-09-06T16:10:39.486-04:00I've decided to attack the form of the sonnet again, workman like. Why wait for a muse?Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1145283886411143442006-04-17T10:18:00.000-04:002006-08-31T06:21:34.523-04:00It is not the sonnet that defeats methough the form of the poem is dauntingit is the need to find an old photographto inspire words to rise, some old hauntingmemories or joy once lived and again in remembranceI look to the nowthe past is not worth my timebitter or sweet the moments that wereI live in the momentwhat shall be an anxiety hopewhat was but a foundationonly now is real, and my poetry Walternoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1141830486864970512006-03-08T10:03:00.000-05:002006-03-08T10:08:07.100-05:00The next excercise: a sonnetAnd not just a sonnet (gad, I've NEVER written a sonnet) a sonnet of dramatized description, with the theme of an old photograph. I can use either the petrarchan (abbaabba|cdcdcd) or shakespearean (abab cdcd|efefgg) rhyming scheme . The method is to make a shift in argument from the octave to the sestet such as specific to general, general to specific, and I'm Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1141745900942642182006-03-07T10:38:00.000-05:002006-03-07T10:38:21.183-05:00unseen drivers don't know of mypeering down on their journey fromBoston's bowels to crest at skyand disapear into the lightwith silent smile I cheer them onlike all impotent guardianswell wishes for journey's bygonelike me unnoticed in passagemy hand worn like the wheel I'll claspwhen my journey I will resumeticket, code and key in my graspsteel encased on a seat that knowsas if totems will keep Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1141233759290542752006-03-01T12:06:00.000-05:002006-03-01T12:22:39.440-05:00This is the prose I'll turn into a poem: The sun glints off the windows of cars crawling up from the tunnel up the bridge to crest in the southbound river flow of colored metal. From up here, the drivers can not be seen, nor are their destinations known. In nudging lines they slink, rising and falling until cresting they slip out of view, small metal ships on the highway's horizon. The Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1141232204203751422006-03-01T11:55:00.000-05:002006-03-01T11:56:44.253-05:00I'm reposting this so that I can delete the spam comments that were dropped into my blogger account.Mary Kinzie, Author of A Poet's Guide to Poetry, put into that book a series of exercises.this is the first:Write a 300 word prose draft followed by a poem that should have four quatrains of long meter (iambic tetrameter rhyming either abab or abxb)theme someone or something seen through a window (Walternoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5190439.post-1113834195027340322005-04-18T09:59:00.000-04:002005-04-18T13:02:08.606-04:00I've decided to resurect this blog as a place for me to work on my poetry and getting it into publication. I'll start with listing places that take online submissions which seem somewhat reliable including one that published one of my poems:http://www.barcidhomily.com/Intriguing Poetry E-zines & Journals 96 Received national recognition over the past nine years for its Walternoreply@blogger.com0