Blog Archives

Back To School

Back to School

Awoke and languished between blanket

and pillow,

                      eyes closed half kidding sleep.

The image my dream wished conjure hung

far off in the corner

                                     like the shy kid I will be.

Strange. Kid in a row.     

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Posted in Poetry, Writing
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Language Law

 

images

Length of line allows me exhale.

This day gives up little, or have I

forgotten to write thanks for that

which was.

                     ~~~

See? It starts to dance with thirty

syllables or so,

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Posted in About Writing, Poetry, Writing
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End Stage

End Stage

We wept together in that dream.

                                                             Her Mom close.

My old friend cuddled her across the booth

in a restaurant where we never ate.

                                                                Her Mom sat

so tall in the corner propped strong, silent.

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Posted in Poetry, Writing
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Why Keep It a Secret?

Book Of Jake

Fellow bloggers, poets, writers: let me be up front. I’m not trying to promote my novel, though I’d be honored if you read it. The point of view I utilized, seems to be causing readers trouble. Does it cause you trouble?

I made,

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Posted in About Writing, Poetry, Prose, Writing
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Recording Mid Day Moments

P1080900

Bells. The distant bells

toll.

So distant I imagine as

blinks

an eye diffuse light off

beech

tree stems and wonder if

they

toll for me. Wonder if the

shift

just happened,

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Posted in Almost Non-Fiction, Poetry, Writing
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Vernacular

The Home Stretch

“The further the living travel into the realm of light and culture, the more they forget the darkness and the dead. And the more they lose their way.”

Clark Strand, Waking Up to the Dark

***

 

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Posted in Poetry, Spirituality, Writing
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Still Life: “Contempt Prior to Excavation”

Prior to Excavation

Garden edges capture affection

as place settings await Thanks-

giving dinner.

                    ~~~

As an old friend doting on his

new born son, frames the next

generation.

                   ~~~

Saw dust from a beam’s heel

dragged from floor to buck or

butcher’s block.

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Posted in Poetry, Writing
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Referendum

Referendum

                 Referendum

Who could see the invisible stick

stacked once to thrice more leading,

how do they say, to the final straw?

                       ~~~

What tiny incident pricks the womb

wall, detonates a lifetime’s worth re-

viling?            

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Posted in Almost Non-Fiction, Poetry, Writing
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Vandals, Week 5

Vandels, Week 5

 

Melvin thought this figures. The first hot day in the year and I start rebuilding our entrance. He couldn’t understand why the previous owners had built up the level so high. The pavers in front of the door were an inch and half above the threshold.

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Posted in Fiction, Prose, Writing
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Vandals, Week Four

Vandals, Wk 4

Melvin wondered what day this was, because everyday requires dishes to be washed. These were the dishes on the tray from the living room. And there were dishes from this morning. This had to be Sunday morning. Melvin had to pause, shake the suds off his hands,

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Posted in Fiction, Prose, Writing
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American born L Dalton White lives this chapter of what has been an amazing journey in a small village in the Westerwald region of Germany. Since 2007 Dalton has had the opportunity to focus on fiction. With The Book of Jake and Complicity published, he continues with several other novels. They include Playing In The Band, Crackup, The Carpenter’s Companion, and So Long As It’s A Glass.