The Door: Selected Poems (Book) - 7/6/2026 9:36:13 AM
Hi
What genre do you enjoy writing the most?🥰btw I analyzed your work, and I think it has a very unique and engaging storytelling style. The way you present your ideas and emotions really stands out.
The Fuck Generation (Book) - 11/14/2025 2:50:48 PM
Well, I'll have to order a copy, Alex. I need a good, hard faceplant that confirms reality right now, and it looks as if this will be just what the doctor ordered. Thanks. -K2
My Interview with Laurel Johnson in 2003 (Article) - 11/15/2025 3:46:46 PM
Very informative and interesting retrospective of your work and intended aims in creating poetic forms of expression, Alex. I find that I also obtain divers stimuli from interaction with others and also enjoy the 'word play' that such encounters set in motion for me. Your background is indeed diverse and varied, with from what I discern to be your many overlapping spheres of concern and a academic expertise. To many creative minds, these assets cited are the paths forward that appear rich with 'aha' moments to the more astute, contrasted to simple minds that may register an experience but can't extrapolate from it creatively. I particularly appreciate your ambition to bring poetry out of the nebulous haze that has grown up academically, around classic forms, and to "bring it home" to less insightful people on a more meaningful (and perhaps more relevant) level. Coffeehouses (and open-mics) certainly do accomplish this and I've always enjoyed them for that reason (among many others), but sadly today's much younger audiences seem to me to not be as imaginative as they used to be back in the 50s, 60s, and 70s. While I begrudgingly acknowledge that rap and hip-hop for example) are legitimate new venues of cultural-specific expression, there's still too much unacceptable violence in them, both crudely sexual and misogynistic. On the other hand, perhaps my testosterone level is on the low side (although my T-levels by clinical assay, appear WNL, LoL). Thanks for sharing the insights contained in this interview (and the news article). [Charles Bukowski, eat your heart out!] -K2
A Double Murder in Los Angeles (Poetry) - 7/22/2026 2:52:18 PM
He did it and got away with it. There was something deep in his psyche, probably when he was a kid in San Francisco, that made him both likable and very violent.
He probably regretted it, but did a quick job of hiding the evidence by taking it to Chicago, and then powerful and money driven lawyers to get him off.
His anger showed again when he tried to get his stuff back and Las Vegas by gunpoint rather than by court action.
Rest in peace, OJ, I loved you when you were good, but I hated you when you were bad.
Ron
Ask Not What You Can Do For Your Country (Poetry) - 7/22/2026 2:47:00 PM
Super sarcastic, why I love it! You spared no kings in your revealing their shortcomings. Or they're a long cummings depending upon how good there noble assistant was in delivering the right action.
I only have one regret: I was a contender: but I never, ever got a blow job.
Ron
O Woman, I am a Lily of the Valley... (Poetry) - 7/21/2026 10:46:05 AM
Sweet, sad love poem will get them every time. And if they are Hispanic? Send them one in Spanish.
Never worked for me.
Ron
Reunion and Uncle Joe's Adventures in Korea (Poetry) - 7/21/2026 10:41:30 AM
Typical dysfunctional American family. Still wonder how you open a salami? Remove the plastic? Gut it? Most people just slice it off the end.
Still wonder how uncle Joe lost his balls in Korea.
Ron
Our Minds Were Drifting (Poetry) - 7/20/2026 7:28:35 AM
Brain stimulants, both up and down, will do that to you. Whether they make you more creative or not, is still a question to be answered.
But when we are young as your poem suggests, it doesn't matter. Or at least until we are old and we realize how we wasted so much time.
Ron
Ode to Mental Patients (Poetry) - 7/19/2026 2:10:32 PM
I hope at least One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.
Ron
Pisces Girl (Poetry) - 7/18/2026 12:28:58 PM
I hope she was lured to your side by your beautiful description of her.
Our six little fishes love to come and taste my fingertips in their crockpot pool. They seem really happy swimming around no matter what the weather, joyfully coming to my fingers. Perhaps not a bad thing being a fish. Maybe they are bored stiff and curious to see something dipping in the water even if it's a paw from a hungry cat.
Ron
Happy as a Goose (Poetry) - 7/18/2026 12:22:53 PM
Okay, if one lives in the country, or near a park where birds like that can be found. An idyllic setting remote from the turmoils of the telly.
I only turn the telly on to get the bad news. There's good news all around me. Bad news gets watchers like me. The worst, the better, when it comes to ratings. Otherwise, one is simply burying one's head in the sand. Knowing was bad going on and knowing that almost everything is still good makes one less anxious about the future and frightful of things that they shouldn't be frightened of.
Ron
I Don't Belong (Poetry) - 7/18/2026 10:54:45 AM
A lost love lament. The kind that makes country songs thrive. Everybody seems to love a good sad song…to live in sing-along.
Ron
A Screaming Poem (Poetry) - 7/18/2026 10:05:02 AM
Apparently, poetry will not keep the woman from leaving and screaming may or may not help dealing with the loneliness that flowers.
I recall that there was a fad and cult following people doing primal screams for their psychological health in the 1980s and 90s.
I have felt that kind of loneliness, but find screaming, unlike women, not something I do easily as a man.
However, now that I can't turn my body frequently in bed. I have to call her (multiple caregivers) to turn me in my agony lying trapped in one place. Sometimes I have to reach the screaming level before I can wake her up. Actually, it's good for my lungs, but not for my psyche.
Ron
In Memory of Paul Shanahan (Poetry) - 7/17/2026 12:49:12 PM
Poignant and to the point. What brings one to suicide? I don't know. But I'm sure there are circumstances.
Ron
With Years (Poetry) - 7/17/2026 12:24:28 PM
You were a youngster in 2001.
With the years, your drive continues to flourish if you don't consume too much alcohol or use other abusive drugs and libido enhancers.
That spark, that drive, can come alive, when she starts flirting with you, not for your handsomeness, but for your security and wealth of self esteem. Something that never gets old.
Ron
One Sunny Day I Dreamt (Poetry) - 7/14/2026 1:35:20 PM
Wow .... an exciting ... insightful ... wonderfully cohesive stream of consciousness. You had me hooked from the very beginning with your images/dreams steeped in concrete reality and vulnerability. You used humor that had both a bite and soul searching sadness.
Loved it. Excellent.
~jeanne
For Penelope (Poetry) - 7/10/2026 2:37:55 PM
Penelope looks the part very well. It's a dog's world after all.
Ron
Spoken Word Revolutionary (Poetry) - 7/9/2026 5:18:44 AM
I have been reading your poems for 22 years,missed out being able to read you lately due to ill health but tonight ,here in Australia I am reading you again and I am so glad I am,I have really missed your way of saying what you think without tippy-toeing on eggshells ,you just sock it to them and if they (other 'poets') do not like it they can F... off.(I am still walking on egg shells Alexander.)
Spoken Word Revolutionary (Poetry) - 7/8/2026 12:52:01 PM
I love this rant. It shows how stupid people are when they are uptight about something that really doesn't matter. They don't know creativity if it hit them in the balls. They are just eager to criticize and belittle something that they know very little about.
I am lousy at spoken word because I don't have anything or any oratory to shock people. In order to be good at spoken word you have to be able to shake them up a bit – take their values and squeeze them till they bleed or scream.
I love your outspoken spoken word. Wish I'd been around more back in those days when I was still working and only came on board on Sundays. Would've given you a lot more comments.
Ron
Soldier of Love (Poetry) - 7/7/2026 10:49:27 AM
Hi! I just finished reading your story and I have to say, it was amazing. Your writing style is so captivating and full of emotion. I really enjoyed every part of it. What inspired you to write this story
Soldier of Love (Poetry) - 7/6/2026 11:58:33 AM
I never knew that the soldier of love resided in a desert of cars. But we love our cars, don't we? Probably more than the female figure of our imagination.
Ron
To a Poet Who Looks for Dinosaurs in His Toilet Bowl (Poetry) - 7/6/2026 11:33:20 AM
It certainly does make a premise for the next monster movie.
But it made me think about the urban legend about alligators and crocodiles in the New York City sewer system.
It seems that young people would get a baby alligator or crocodile to put in their terrarium. When the little critter started to get too big and feisty, they would flush it down the toilet.
What with all the rats in the NYC sewer system call mom they supposedly thrived and became huge monsters. There probably a movie about that, too.
Ron
Behind These Barricades (Poetry) - 7/5/2026 2:42:38 PM
Showing your ability to cover almost every aspect of a single situation like the role everyone plays in parties compared to their real lonely lives.
The only thing I would question is the night out there. It is far from silent. Usually filled with the night's creatures communicating in their own way and living their highly charged sexually surviving existences just like humans. So wonderful to just be out there and enjoying the struggle. But you have to be away from the city and the city sounds to do it.
Ron
Opportunity (Poetry) - 7/5/2026 12:57:08 PM
Thinking way back in 1986 about dying empty and lonely. But here you are, still writing 40 years later with a wealth of poetry produced. Perhaps not as welcomed as you might like, but with a sense of levity now you didn't have then.
Ron
To My Father (Poetry) - 7/5/2026 12:50:38 PM
I sense a great chasm. You wrote this in 1987? In spite of it, I also sense that you have, innately acquired some of his skill with languages and words.
Did you ever reconcile?
My father and I never saw eye to eye on some things except the value of hard work and sharing leisure times together. He ended up very proud of me for defying his early expectations.
Ron
Our Selves, Our Graves (Poetry) - 7/5/2026 11:44:17 AM
Our graves are but dust in the wind. The period of box burial with fancy stone is over…taking up too much of precious acreage.
The new legacy is to have our work on the Internet. With the help of AI, it will be stored in category according to its usefulness in future generations and will rest there probably for eternity. Or at least until eternity dissolves the "simple" code that supports it until it is no more.
Ron
I Felt a Feline Up Above (Poetry) - 7/1/2026 7:15:07 PM
"This day was like no other day--
In verdant pageantry--
Like lavish landscapes of Monet
And poems of Emily."
Nice!
jeanne
On Cultural Memetics (Poetry) - 6/30/2026 11:39:46 AM
I believe it's gotten worse since 2006. Where science and news are fake, and bullshit is it. Especially when it comes to fortune and fame. Among the blame game.
Ron
My Theology (Poetry) - 6/24/2026 10:24:47 AM
This one I like more than words can say.
Write Me a Heartfelt Poem About Grandpa and Baked Beans (Poetry) - 6/20/2026 6:57:45 AM
Very evocative, Alex. All the mind-hooks and memory snares of a virtual deep-sea tuna-boat, trolling the waters of experience that all of us swim in. Most enjoyable. It certainly succeeded in opening wide the vault gates in my personal trove of childhood memories.
Fortunately (or not), I don't need to write anything and then toss it all away, retreating to a cerebral tabula rasa state...nature and the ageing process will do all for me, automatically. Now if I could just figure out how to close those memory vault doors and secure them, once again...
Write Me a Heartfelt Poem About Grandpa and Baked Beans (Poetry) - 6/19/2026 2:31:05 PM
You just wrote a damn good poem about all the bad poems that people make books of that will never sell except to embarrassed relatives and friends.
But you reminded me of my childhood where every grandmother wore an apron and most kitchens smelled like a bakery wow most parlors smelled of pipe tobacco.
Ron
Freedom (Poetry) - 6/19/2026 1:18:30 PM
You certainly broke the shackles with this one! Pro coin mean to anyone who will listen what freedom really is.
I never look at freedom from, but freedom to.
Ron
Don’t Go Quiet Into That Bar Tonight (Poetry) - 6/19/2026 1:12:06 PM
Coffee shops were easy compared to bars. But I recall the Beatles warned how it was sing so loud above their instruments in Hamburg. Where are the Germans could care less about a rag tag English band trying to make it in a foreign country.
Surely, between the strobes, you got your licks in.
Ron
Freedom (Poetry) - 6/19/2026 3:51:05 AM
'I want to breathe, I want to rise and speak
The language of the sky for all to listen.'
_/|\_
Written so long ago… And never more pertinent than today…
Thank you for sharing has always Alexander… :-)
I am reading this on June 19… which is Aung San Suu Kyi 81st birthday on June 19… As you may very well be aware, she has been unlawfully and cruelly imprisoned for three years, and not even her family have been allowed contact with her… the sincerest voice of freedom, democracy, peaceful dialogue, Nobel Peace Prize laureate and wonderful mother has been silenced for far too long… No proof that she is even alive… May the greatest birthday gift for heroic Aung San Suu Kyi and millions and millions of courageous freedom devotees be rightfully bestowed by June 19… Aung San Suu Kyi's 81st Birthday - The Lady, the most courageous and loved leader of Burma, noble-hearted, farsighted visionary, powerful peacemaker, and graceful human being imaginable. Praying to the heavens and beyond that this will be so🙏
Fuck Religion (Poetry) - 6/18/2026 2:39:59 PM
Your poem speaks volumes about the absurdity of religion. When examined carefully instead of relying on early childhood conditioning, the reality of what religion is, is clear.
A domination of one's spirit. A domination that limits creativity and exploration into the greater meaning of life and how one should live it.
Ron
Freedom (Poetry) - 6/17/2026 6:38:57 PM
Most enjoyable!
Don’t Go Quiet Into That Bar Tonight (Poetry) - 6/17/2026 6:37:42 PM
Another gem, Alex. I'm sure Dylan is rolling over in his grave at this very moment! [=)))
I've Seen the Remnants (Poetry) - 6/13/2026 7:58:46 AM
You know that my view of the world is simple. We bury flesh and bones, no need for a tomb because the soul lives on all around us. The tapestry that Connect us all is hope. I do enjoy the dark beauty of grief. It makes beautiful poetry.
Hey Mr. Death (Poetry) - 6/8/2026 4:15:51 PM
31 years and counting, Alex! You still haven't lost your always relevant poetic edge.
The Nowak incident strikes me as a screaming indictment against currently popular and oh-so-trendy 'reverse racism.' This insanity that priorioitises and/or predicates a person's most basic, innate value as a human being on the color of his or her skin is just that: utter INSANITY.
Of course, I tend to be a bit more absolutist than you in feeling that it's time for the evolutionary forces that brought Homo saps into existence on Earth to yank humanity's 'welcome' status on this planet and let the Cauldron of Alchemic Creation try another approach to producing a 'highest evolved life form' to predominate.
All of this further serves to demonstrates to me that England (and likely all of Western Europe, as well) has now been irredeemably transformed into a collective asylum for the pathologically aberrant among us.
Referencing your poem from 1995 (Mr. Death), it certainly suits the mood of the times, doesn't it? Kudos. -K2
Natural Music (Poetry) - 6/8/2026 7:31:08 AM
Thanks, Ron. It's Henry David Thoreau but you were close. :)
Natural Music (Poetry) - 6/7/2026 10:12:29 AM
I've never read Robinson Jeffers, but from your tribute, I believe that he was on the right track about finding in nature what we can't find in philosophy or poetry.
As David Thoreau learned on Walden Pond, nature has a way of setting us on the right path.
Ron
Natural Music (Poetry) - 6/7/2026 6:19:34 AM
Just what I needed today, Alex. A poignant dart to pierce my bubble of world-weariness and return my inner gaze to the absolutely breathtaking perfection of nature...our mother and Supreme Deity. Thanks for this spiritual SAR (Search And Rescue) mission! -K2
Natural Music (Poetry) - 6/7/2026 2:47:02 AM
Wholesome in its beauty. An ode worthy of its cause.
Once We Were Lovers (Poetry) - 6/6/2026 11:38:41 AM
I saw that movie, Moonstruck.
What a great feeling when one is there. If only it would last.
Like my ex-wife told me after, "Ron, we should have remained lovers."
Ron
Fate (translation) (Poetry) - 6/4/2026 1:48:11 PM
Back at the time he lived, life was much more fateful than it is today, more violent, and with much less knowledge of medicine and how to deal with sickness and injury.
But life is still fateful for much of the world's population. We can change that. But it will take more than poetry.
Ron
Chance Encounters in the Men’s Room (Poetry) - 6/1/2026 12:14:05 PM
Gave me a good laugh. And made me recall brief encounters at the line of urinals that didn't amount to the kind of discourse you are describing.
But perhaps at communal toilets in bucket list trailer parks such encounters occur while older people take their time doing their obligation on the crapper.
I remember multiple hole outhouses…they stunk.
On another thought, while some used to read while waiting for the inevitable or not, I never did. Today, they probably get on their phones and commute with their fellow crapper friends instead of meeting them at the bar like they used to.
Ron
Come, You Silly, Don’t You Know (Poetry) - 6/1/2026 8:07:14 AM
By posting them here, words you wrote a long time ago, their life may be extended immensely.
Like famous authors and poets who weren't discovered until they were long dead, one never knows when one of the phrases that we have written will be picked up and immortalized.
Ron
What Is Love? (Poetry) - 6/1/2026 7:54:57 AM
A treasure drove of your earlier poetry.
Without love lost, would there be any poets at all?
Ron
Chance Encounters in the Men’s Room (Poetry) - 5/31/2026 6:13:40 PM
You'd think they'd have some reservations about "sitting on their porcelain thrones" full cloth'ed, whilst engaged in such deep-seated concerns (LoL), for in Deutschsprache, there's an old Bavarian aphorism that goes "Scheiß nicht in deine Lederhose!" But on the t'other hand, forgetfulness is a precursor to 'terminal obsolescence' that ultimately overtakes us all, and a few excremental-smears on one's leather unmentionables therefore pales in relative significance, when one is swimming in excrement, 24/7, in today's modern society.
Fortunately, methinks, the 'other Gobbledygook' that our newer race of junior citizens seems to entertain these days is a bit further removed into the Twilight Zone than that of their senior critics.
Some vivid images here, Alex.
Collage (Poetry) - 5/29/2026 12:05:09 PM
All those and multiply by five under today's new irritations.
But it's always nice to know that the wolf will not be at your door.
Ron
Messenger of Love (Poetry) - 5/28/2026 11:36:50 PM
This is also beautiful. You should write more poems like this. It would be interesting to see how your vision in this subject has evolved through the years.
What Is Love? (Poetry) - 5/28/2026 11:33:49 PM
This is very beautiful. You describe pure love in its essence.
Period Doubling Route to Chaos (Poetry) - 5/25/2026 9:30:32 AM
Just about sums it up. We are all headed towards infinity whether we understand it or not. A good look at lonely horny lives.
Ron
Smash It All (Poetry) - 5/24/2026 7:04:59 AM
Which could be, coincidentally, quite an apt modern analogue of the inner core of 'plaint forcefully made by that masterful Welshman, back in the early 50s (and somewhat molested here):
Do not go gentle into that terrible night,
Though youth may burn and rave at close of day;
Rage still against the dying of the light.
Though older men at end of day know dark is right,
Because their daylight dreams have fallen flat, they
Do not go gentle into that dread-filled night.
Etc., etc., etc.
What Does This Painting Mean? (Poetry) - 5/23/2026 12:22:41 PM
The famous Rorschach inkblot test, where the ink blots were folded over to create a mirrored image that often resembled something that our eyes would perceive in pairs. Like legs, arms, and eyes.
It was developed in 1917 and is still used today according to a search I did. Psychiatrista, by analyzing the response to what the patient is saying about the various images, can, sometimes, determine the individual's mental state.
While I could see any number of things in the image, like your poem related, I know what it's used for and would refuse to answer.
Ron
Jesus Burger (Poetry) - 5/22/2026 5:54:20 AM
Religion, I fear, is 'food for the sole', rather than 'food for the soul.' This piece captures the essence perfectly of the insanely fragile intellectual nonsense that masquerades as keys to a salvation that doesn't exist, except in the imaginations of the weak and the dreamers. Short, salient and to the point, Alex. Another very satisfying one from the past. -K2
In the Azure of Your Thoughts (Poetry) - 5/18/2026 10:20:49 AM
We miss Jude. He was, indeed, probably the most followed of all poets on AD. There was a certain charisma about his ethereal poetry that attracted such a great following. You might say he was an influencer during that poetry heyday. Winning the contest almost every week.
But he slipped away along with many others, for reasons I don't know. Never to return.
Ron
In Our Great Republic (Poetry) - 5/17/2026 8:42:20 AM
I have been accused of someone with rose card glasses that does not see the reality we are in. But I know that the arc of history is towards good.
As bad as things are today for people, particularly here in the United States, so polarized over there so-called political loyalties, times are better for everyone on the planet than they ever have been.
All these people that are so worried need to be dropped in King Arthur's court like the Connecticut Yankee. They then would realize that landing in medieval England with the romanticized view of that terrible, ugly place and time, would make them want to return to the 21st-century as soon as possible.
I remember smoke-filled rooms. I'm so glad they're gone.
You made me wonder if we would be complaining so much if Gore had become president instead of losing his clear majority vote to the corrupt electoral college system. I probably would have solar power on my roof a long time ago instead of struggling to get it at any cost.
Ron
Poetry and Madness (Poetry) - 5/14/2026 12:14:49 PM
That last line is the quencher. It's interesting how nonsense is treated by the reader. Looking for something nice to say about utter raving.
Ron
Yes, Putin Is a Madman (Poetry) - 5/12/2026 4:19:36 PM
Yes, he doesn't seem so mad after all…
In Praise of Philistines (Poetry) - 5/12/2026 11:42:32 AM
There is some real acid sarcasm in this poem. But regardless of the field, there are always those snobs who think they have cornered it, yet don't possess the knowledge or ability to perform well. Like fraternities.
Ron
Love and Fear (Poetry) - 5/10/2026 8:33:02 AM
Hats off to Walt Whitman and your poem written in 1993, back when I was Amir baby go out my 30 years after my paralysis.
But becoming paralyzed didn't change my attitude towards life. It has always been on the side of love. Fear has no meaning in my life. I have confronted many things that people fear and found them friendly, especially in nature.
Thank you for reposting this because many people need to read it these days and realize whether they love or they fear. I'm afraid way too many, are fearful when they shouldn't be. I'm not afraid of them, but afraid of what they are bringing on themselves by that attitude.
Ron
I Have an Amazing Girlfriend (Poetry) - 5/7/2026 12:47:46 PM
I remember reading and commenting on this before. Women love to talk. Some women are narcissistic and like to buy nice things. Some women like to have children and raise them perfectly. Some women want to have sex all the time because they are addicted to sex.
Take your pick…I see you already have by your disclaimer at the end. Good choice.
Ron
When the Ego Dies, the Soul Awakes (Poetry) - 5/7/2026 12:30:37 PM
I agree with your initial premise and with your poem that follows suit.
I have watched a number of people rocket to fame only to burn out long before their time should be up. On the other hand, I've watched less selfish and less greedy individuals weather the long haul in quiet relaxation with family and friends gathered 'round often.
Ron
Ach liebe Schüler, was habt ihr getan? (Poetry) - 5/6/2026 11:42:33 AM
I was going to say, "Just another brick in the hole…" Until I see that you have provided us that wonderful classic from Pink Floyd.
When politicians talk of jobs…they want people to conform to the matrix of society and do their little part for as long as they are able and then, relax in their old age on their Social Security.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if people weren't trained like BF Skinner's pigeons to do things for their masters and could just do what they pleased. Just have money available to live on while they're doing it. To think of the creativity that would come out of that.
But the powers that be do not want creativity. They want the engines of industry to make them more money by being loyal followers and slaves to their causes.
Ron
Old Poets Drink Café au Lait (Poetry) - 5/4/2026 11:39:46 AM
Thanks for the Pink Floyd. Those young guys sure knew a lot about old age…or did they?
Old poets never die. They just scribble, pee on the floor, and lie.
I can't read French and don't go to Starbucks, so I will translate what you wrote old poets do, and say…I drink coffee, but not, a lot.(My offhand translation).
Ron
Christ’s Confessions (Poetry) - 5/3/2026 9:01:39 AM
That about sizes up things these days. Money talks and politicians listen, following up on the commands.
Ron
12 Steps of Bad Poets Anonymous (Poetry) - 5/3/2026 8:34:49 AM
I'll drink to that. I read once that alcohol is the number one killer of men. Ahead of heart disease.
Ron
Mary Had Six Little Lambs (Poetry) - 4/29/2026 9:23:19 AM
Lambs are lambs, and goats are goats. Little lambs eat Ivy. Kid'll eat Ivy too, wouldn't you?
That's about as far as I will go when it comes to kinky lambs and goats. Is that why they sacrifice them?
Ron
There Is a Ship Upon the Ocean (Poetry) - 4/28/2026 1:46:59 PM
Our good earth is a ship with everything we've ever needed.
It's spinning so fast that it makes a complete rotation every 24 hours, 50,000 miles. It's rotating the sun at a tremendous rate. And the sun is also moving around the Milky Way galaxy at a very high rate of speed. The Milky Way galaxy is moving away from the Big Bang; some measurements seemed to indicate greater than the speed of light.
What holds our little ship and us together? Gravity. Time to take care of our little ship. It's the only one we've got.
Ron
Fill-in-the-Blank Poetry Bandwagon (Poetry) - 4/24/2026 1:24:54 PM
I remember this one well, but don't remember what I commented.
There certainly doesn't seem to be power in joining along with fellows I'll be feather.
But I have never been a joiner and refuse to join any of the Pied Pipers who claim they have all the answers. Just a guy writing poetry like you. White and unaffected by religion or ideology.
Ron
Fill-in-the-Blank Poetry Bandwagon (Poetry) - 4/24/2026 9:32:02 AM
Well, the good news, bro, is that because you're just another ordinary, devalued, disrespected, disregarded white, cisgendered, chauvinistic male, you can now join a new minority cause: that of ordinary, devalued, disrespected and disregarded white, cisgendered, chauvinistic males! People of No Color Pride, that be us! Join us other ordinary, devalued, disrespected and disregarded white, cisgendered, chauvinistic male as we sing our National Anthem. It starts off, "I celebrate myself, and sing myself, and what I assume you shall assume, for every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you." There's more...and now if the maestro will hit a G# for us, a wunn, a tuuu, a threeee...
PS: Another good one, Alex.
Thomas Chickenbone (Poetry) - 4/22/2026 6:34:54 AM
Somehow, I'm reminded of 'Chickenbone Slim', although in a very non relevant way, but this is a most enjoyable one. I wish I were a Meter Maestro, as you are, Alex. Sigh. [I'd also settle for the potency of one, actually, since poetic potency is completely impervious to the effects of Cialis and Viagra. And therein lies the seed (no word-play intended) of another, separate and possibly even clever pome...if carefully crafted. Hmmmm.] -K2
Thomas Chickenbone (Poetry) - 4/21/2026 2:49:13 PM
It would be great to have a potent pen like Thomas you described. After all isn't potency the way of the world?
I think I'll go ask Genghis Khan.
Ron
Why Johnny Can’t Do Math (Poetry) - 4/21/2026 2:33:09 PM
Read like all my fellow classmates at Techie Tech. When they failed at math, they became teachers.
Ron
I Do Not Trust the Experts (Poetry) - 4/20/2026 7:57:34 AM
A serious look at our followership lives. It's gotten so far as people are very intrigued with influencers who get their information direct from AI, the new god almighty of everything, all the time, in every way possible.
My mentors taught me a lot about being fair and positive. Using proven technique for almost everything that worked all the time under every kind of circumstance.
Science is always correct. It's the interpretation of science that we have to worry about. Do we want nuclear power or nuclear bombs? The more we understand, the better off we are.
Ron
I Do Not Trust the Experts (Poetry) - 4/20/2026 5:51:54 AM
"I do believe in freedom, that it is worth the fight,
To stand up to injustice, to stand for what is right—
To go where God leads me, through darkness, grief and pain—
Till we can be together, unshackled from these chains."
I agree with Suzie, Alex. This one resonates! A true piece of craftsmanship. That last stanza is the core aspiration of a nation renewed, with vigor and purpose, to emerge from the pitch blackness of the ignorance that threatens America from within and rise once more towards the sunlight that is wisdom and cogency.
I Do Not Trust the Experts (Poetry) - 4/20/2026 12:00:40 AM
So very well written and so very very true… May everyone everywhere believe in Freedom and realise it is a sacred fabric of our very existence… Thank God the Golden Age is upon us where more and more people are opening their hearts and minds _/|\_
God’s Overture (Poetry) - 4/19/2026 9:46:09 AM
I was having a bit of trouble with the "scorching elephant," until I realized it was just an overly large woman in a burlesque setting. And then, you further upset the apple cart by revealing she had balls.
The ultimate in burlesque…to delight the senses and shock them once in a while.
Ron
Collage para Luis García-Abrines Calvo (Poetry) - 4/18/2026 12:23:42 PM
I didn't know there were that many words of adulation. Quite an achievement. And the last line?
Luis García-Abrines Calvo was not only a scholar, but from his bio, a character larger than life. I gather that he was also one of your mentors. A great one to have if one is a poet.
Ron
Collage para Luis García-Abrines Calvo (Poetry) - 4/17/2026 7:13:44 AM
...and I am now prompted to take a look at Luis García-Abrines Calvo, whose acquaintance I have not previously made. Thanks for opening a fascinating new new door into possibilities, Alex.
Unbeknownst to many of those who do not lead reflective lives, the normal human heart contains many formative places such as you reference in Calvo's nature. In my case, thus far, a search for such related venues in my own heart takes me to an equally absurdist place, which is radio comedian Stan Freberg's Lawrence Whelk spoof ('Wun'nerful, Wun'nerful!', released in Oct 1957, almost exactly a month before Soviet Space Dog Laika made her tragic trip into orbit) on the Lawrence Whelk Show, in which at the end of same, Catalina Island's famed Aragon Ballroom floats out to sea.... (Cue foghorms, thumb-in-cheeks "pops" and champagne bubbles...)
Was I Serious? (Poetry) - 4/16/2026 10:06:57 AM
I have yet to see a smiling chicken. And careful, you'll get a sunburn.
Ron
PS. I was once chastised for calling them Canadian geese. But Oxford says tha expression is acceptable as a colloquial way of calling the more proper, Canada goose. So, I use the one for singular and the other for plural…like, "I hate you geeses to pieces."
Through the Eyes of a Cat (Poetry) - 4/14/2026 3:00:28 PM
You certainly described the cats that I have taken over my backyard. I don't know who their owners are, but they believe they own every inch of my property.
Ron
El Queso Grande (Poetry) - 4/14/2026 11:20:47 AM
I'm sure you were referring to someone of poetic power as your big cheese back in 2005, but I can't recall who it might be. Except, perhaps, a certain cartel leader from Columbia.
But since things come around once in a while, I caught a strange resemblance of a certain big cheese of our time where some of your prophetic words ring very true.
On the other hand, you could be yanking our cord with that 2005 date.
Ron
Tolstoy in America (Poetry) - 4/12/2026 7:32:41 AM
Good old Bierce! Always there when you need an adroit summation of the inner 'core' essence of something! April seems to be a busy month for significant historical events, in my reckoning. Today, for example (12 Apr 61) the Soviets launched Yuri Gagarin into space, waxing our (American) tails in the space history books. Three days later (15 Apr 12) Titanic went deep-sea diving after getting iced by an impudently presumptive berg. 1 Apr was also the day I (reluctantly, but voluntarily) went into the USAF, due to the imminent risk of being used in Vietnam as AK-47 fodder. Always fun to hear about Lev Tolstoy in April. As for the gunshots, how quaint that those volleys of enraged revenge continue today (as ever) almost unchanged, as we (the enemy) continue to 'meet ourselves' through the ages Enjoyed this one about Lev's fancied aversion to 'Moozick/Meowzick'. Interesting to reflect on the fact that this one is dated back to June of '91, which puts it a few days past the "Juneteenth" celebration we all love so much ('whoopee', he said, sarcastically). ;-((
There Are Poets and There Are Poets (Poetry) - 4/11/2026 12:34:43 PM
A Pissy, Pasternaky Promulgation
(by a Nony Maus, 'R' Pote)
Pasternak made a crack
About Josef Stalin’s beard
That when Josef heard, he thought absurd
But allowed he might’ve concurred,
“Had Boris joined the chorus
And admitted he adored us,
I’d have shared my finest tobacco
And skipped the whole Gulag fiasco.”
But Boris was a stylist
With a very discerning eye,
He found the Great Man’s bristles
A bit much to justify.
“It looks,” he told a candle,
“Like a hedge that’s lost its way,
Where a family of sparrows
Might decide to spend the day.”
The Generalissimo scowled
And he gave his snout a scrub,
He didn't like a poet
Acting like a grooming Schlub.
“My whiskers are for tractor-drivers,
And the men who forge the steel!
Not for sensitive aesthetes
Who care how velvet jackets feel.”
So Boris kept his distance
And he wrote of Doctor Z,
While staying far away
From Joe’s facial topia-ry.
For though the beard was prickly
And the Party line was grim,
It’s safer to write verses
Than to give the Boss a "trim."
There Are Poets and There Are Poets (Poetry) - 4/11/2026 9:44:50 AM
I agree with you. I've heard some poetry from rather unknown poets who stunned me with their words.
Like the one that ended, "We be dead soon."
Ron
Apocalyptic Dream (Poetry) - 4/8/2026 9:51:51 AM
"The Apocalypse is near,"Cried Chicken Little as he ran from the sky.
Spouting the Bible, believers think that it is closer now than ever before. But what is it? The doomsday clock of scientists?
There will be no big phallis in the sky. It will come insidiously from underground, starting with viruses, insects, and worms.
But as presented, very funny. As I fill my pantry with vanity.
Ron
Apocalyptic Dream (Poetry) - 4/8/2026 7:58:43 AM
Interesting (as always) and cleverly appropo, Alex, but not one of your best. Sometimes, these days, I think we're all Heavenly BOHICA candidates...mummmph...just waiting for the Big Heavenly Phallus to do its wurst (sic).
Death of Weldon Kees (Poetry) - 4/7/2026 1:02:42 PM
Thank you for introducing me to Welding Kees. I have read later poets from the Bay Area, but not him.
The Golden Gate Bridge has always been a convenient way to drop out of the sometimes, stressful, art world of San Francisco. I believe that nets have prevented many in recent years.
A fine tribute to him.
Ron
Why Do I Masturbate in Front of My TV Set? (Poetry) - 3/31/2026 12:53:09 PM
Well, it certainly sounds as if there's a whole new world inside the television set (1987 style), but as for myself, I think I'll just settle for masticating in front of my TV set....and only proteins and H20, at that! Meretricious to all and to all a good night (1987). Ho-ho-ho...
Why Do I Masturbate in Front of My TV Set? (Poetry) - 3/31/2026 11:58:48 AM
That was quite a list! Every one of them valid. But that was then, and this is now. Where you can masturbate to your computer because it has a camera and you can send it out on the Internet for all to see in real time…or streamed later. One way to get it off your chest…err…your butt.
I really miss the Nude News.
But never fear if you're still stuck before your 1080 pixel wide screen TV. They are bringing back Baywatch. And you know what that means?
Ron
The Show (Poetry) - 3/31/2026 10:52:54 AM
I love The Who, but my hearing didn't allow me to for you understand the words, although I do recognize the song.
Yes there's a lot of show with no blow. It has moved from the back alley stage to streaming, with podcasting and even video channels dedicated to the stuff.
Makes me want to astral project myself into the next void.
Ron
She Drifts in a Vacuum (Poetry) - 3/30/2026 11:59:23 AM
I'm not sure who "she"I n is in the poem, but you are curly referring to George W. Bush's attempt to reshape the Saddam Hussein regime in Iraq.
That cheerleader could've been a reporter or a political insider. But we have to be careful what causes we follow thinking that they are just.
Ron
She Storms My Brain (Poetry) - 3/30/2026 11:35:59 AM
Lucy in the sky with diamonds. A reference to what psychedelics do to one's senses. Can't say that I ever experienced them. Only a slightly different down from the wine I was drinking after eating Alice Toklas's recipe brownies.
But I danced with a flower girl in a tie-dyed shift one day. It made a very nice impression on my brain. But she left in the crowd after the dance and I never saw her again.
Ron
She Storms My Brain (Poetry) - 3/29/2026 2:08:48 PM
I've always taken particular pleasure in stormy weather. Symbolises the pleasurous multitudes of natural blessings conferred upon us my Ghea...if we could just stop to appreciate it, and leave everything bloody well alone, just as it is! How fortunate you have a real-live Ghea of your own to stimulate the pleasure centers of your brain, Alex! Get out those gossamer wings you've been saving for a special occasion and fly with her! Weather right now is CAFB (Clear As an Effin' Bell). Just don't fly too close to the Sun...remember what happened to Icarus! LoL. -K2
To a Young Contemporary (Poetry) - 3/28/2026 7:11:39 AM
Caustically, acerbically and adroitly (as always) zeroed-in on today's know-nothing pose of social and political omnipotence that we see everywhere, these days, most notably among our 'younger confreres.' It is so terribly easy to feign teleological wisdom of the highest water when one is merely still suffering from post-natal moisture behind the ears...
For Lori Lynn (Poetry) - 3/27/2026 11:42:21 AM
I distinctly remember this one. Perhaps it was her image. It is certainly a lovesick poem.
And probably, according to the last stanza, just a dream.
Ron
A Capitalist, a Socialist and a Poet (Poetry) - 3/27/2026 11:04:57 AM
Unfortunately, we can't eat poetry. And relying on a little help from our friends gets thin after the favor is never returned.
But, poets can teach. Or preach in a church.
Ron
Place Where Light Is (Poetry) - 3/27/2026 7:13:37 AM
That was a beautiful, uplifting song. Makes me wish I could understand Russian.
But your poem appears to be an effort to try to come out of depression. Seeking the light. Like another famous song, Here Comes the Sun, delivered beautifully at Woodstock by Richie Havens.
Ron
For Lori Lynn (Poetry) - 3/25/2026 3:47:55 PM
Rather nice, Alex. Interestingly , I had a former GF named Lauri and another one named Lynn, but the world is full of such coincidences, isn't it? Neither of them 'dug ' poetry, sadly. But then, they both prolly thought I didn't either, LoL. -K2
Place Where Light Is (Poetry) - 3/23/2026 2:44:35 PM
That is truly beautiful, Alex. I was just a bit earlier writing a piece about sunlight reflected off the surging wavetops of a stormy, surging sea, like a salving beacon of hope for weather-benighted seamen. The light of the thing, that's the key we all seek, wherever and whenever we are, for the Sun in all its life-affirming splendor is the luminescence that lights the path through the muddle, through the tickets and the tangled copses of snarled trees for us, promising redemption. Sunlight is better than religion, better than prayer! Little mystery that ancient civilisations worshipped and cultivated the blessings of the Sun God (whomever he/she/it they deemed it to be). Nice one, Alex! Succinct and on target!
Apple of Discord (Poetry) - 3/23/2026 7:27:16 AM
If it weren't for misunderstanding, there would be no fights at all.
Have experienced it myself. And ignorance doesn't help, either. The image is very appropriate, especially of the beer cans on the ground. Just a little beer conjures up a lot of foolhardy courage among those who disagree to duke it out for the wrong reasons.
I guess you shouldn't have written that poem that got them all fighting and hating you.
Ron
Hey You, Big Ape (Poetry) - 3/20/2026 12:03:44 PM
That was quite a rant about the banality of those around you. Especially, that big ape with a brain the size of a pea.
There were references to the time it was written, making it more a period piece than something timeless. The nonsense today is much different while remaining much the same.
Ron
Hey You, Big Ape (Poetry) - 3/18/2026 3:47:54 PM
Wow, Alex...powerful use of the language...1987, eh?...I recall; someone once said in response to hearing a composition like this, "Hey man, I don't know what you're smokin', but I WANT some!" [That's NOT meant to be derogatory; I just thought it was an expressive way to say "You're blowing my mind!"] Bukowsky-grade, for sure. Nice! And you haven't lost that razor-edge, either, after nearly 40 years of poetic fermentation!
Ode to a Whore (Poetry) - 3/18/2026 9:42:17 AM
Chuckle. A good one, Alex. [If she were Hispanic, I'd have to say "Good Juan!", but I'll spare you that. No more green beer for you, me foine Boyo!]
A Harp Player (Poetry) - 3/17/2026 8:37:43 AM
A very deep sea revelation. Strange dream.
You may have been channeling Lurene Mattson. She played the harp in the musical, The Fantastiks when I saw in San Francisco in 1968. The very first time I saw the importance of a harp as the lead instrument. Played by a beautiful lady.
Ron
Schizophrenic Poetry (Poetry) - 3/16/2026 7:54:48 AM
Thanks for the memories. We used to joke about the men in white coats coming to take us away way back in high school in the 1950s. The song rings with some truth that I recall listening to when it was a big hit. I didn't know that it was banned.
I've had some up close and personal experiences with schizophrenic people. Very hard to deal with.
Ron
Schizophrenic Poetry (Poetry) - 3/15/2026 7:21:26 PM
Incredibly satisfying to find my old padded cell mate, Napoleon the 14th, here in full cry! That particular rendition has been my theme song for as long as I can recall. God bless the schizophasiacs...but watch out for the ever-widening pyramids...the ones with the great wholes, not Swiss fromage-like...um, man! What is the moon coming to? It's as easy as a bridge. after all, isn't it? Clang, clang, clang! Yezzir! Schizophasia, we're profusionable grade, made in Merka! You can croak me on that... Just drink my Kata Tonic, made from the souls of Kickapoo Medicine men, it'll cure your sanity permanently! -K2
Ode to Absurdity (Poetry) - 3/15/2026 1:12:56 PM
How sad. Truly a clever and skillful ode to absurdity. I hope you are well now or in the near future, if you want to be of course.
Ode to Absurdity (Poetry) - 3/15/2026 12:35:07 PM
Much of life is like that. Why the song reaches so many.
I first heard The Creep covered on a singing contest show. The guy was so good, that he outshined the original. Glad you gave me the opportunity to listen to it again.
Ron
Ode to Absurdity (Poetry) - 3/14/2026 7:06:02 PM
Powerfully expressed and eloquently potent, Alex. Absurdly inabsurd, it speaks for all of us and our farcical human affairs!
A Higher Way (Poetry) - 3/11/2026 9:36:36 AM
I like every word of it. Would like to get out on the higher way again myself.
Ron
When Sadness and Memory... (Poetry) - 3/9/2026 2:53:04 PM
Beautiful in its allegorical symbolisms, Alex. A perfect poetic simulacrum of Ghea, the Mother Goddess (or our Hawai'ian counterpart deity, Haumea).
"...we eat suns for breakfast
and moons for lunch,
awaiting the mysterious last supper of youth." Serene!
Pete the Artist (Poetry) - 3/9/2026 9:11:48 AM
You are absolutely right. Vincent van Gogh and Edvard Munch who created Scream are good examples.
But getting more down to earth, like Pete, I was having trouble finding a room before the fall semester to teach, and rented one from a senior art student in his upscale mobile home he purchased for his failed marriage. The marriage was annulled after two weeks.
He was an A student. But couldn't hold a job more than a week. On one job, he acquired a nice indoor Juniper about 6 foot tall. At Christmas, he decorated it lavishly with mostly gold, gaudy decoration. Two weeks later, it was dead from not getting any light.
A week later, he threatened to throw me and my things out into the snow. I reported him to the police and left. A month later, he was committed.
Ron
Do I Wish People Ill? (Poetry) - 3/8/2026 10:02:01 AM
I can see your connection to Bakowski in this poem you wrote way back when ...1987…while a student?
I've heard a lot about Charles Bukowski, but never read him. I want to thank you for the video outlining what he stood for. Quite a terrible way to find enlightenment.
I agree with Bukowski's philosophy. I picked that up reading David Allen Thoreau describe the lives of ants, comparing them to people, as, "Living lives of quiet desperation."
Also, the absurdity of life from Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre.
Therefore, I like how you goad people into thinking differently. You don't have to wish them ill. They already are following like puppets ill-fated stars, cults and religions.
Ron
Internet Women (Poetry) - 3/7/2026 7:55:59 AM
These days those lovely ladies tend to be some scammer from Kazakhstan raking in the money from all those lonely souls thinking they are connecting with Alexandria.
But a great view of the way it was back when all the women on the Internet had to lie a bit in order to present their best doctored photos.
Reminded me also of Bobby Darin… "If I were a carpenter, and you were a lady…"
Ron
New American Revolution (Poetry) - 2/28/2026 6:35:17 PM
"You can bring your phony charges,
Steal elections with deceit,
But you cannot stop the movement
That will lead to your defeat."
Excellent, Alex. Now more true than ever. I enjoyed this one greatly. Thanks.
Requiescat In Pace (Poetry) - 2/16/2026 12:12:05 PM
Appears to be written for someone that you've lost. But illustrates beautifully that the only truth is love.
Ron
Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road? (Poetry) - 2/16/2026 11:35:22 AM
The sky wasn't falling on the other side?
You pose a good question with much speculation. As if a chicken had any other thoughts than producing many eggs or impregnating as many hens as possible.
Metaphorically, all kinds of human behavior could be attributed to the chicken like your poem illustrates.
Unique and interesting to read.
Ron
Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road? (Poetry) - 2/11/2026 6:46:45 AM
Begs the more ascendant question of "Why did the poet cross the road?" Clearly, the answer to that poetic apophthegm is "Because he wanted to cross the road to personally immerse himself in whatever angst and emotionally larger-than-life experience the rooster suffered through in this asphaltic, intersectionalistic convergence, so that he could draw upon it to inspire his own passional poetic insight." [Far from being a foul example of poetic maladaptation, this one really stretches the bounds of domestic avian imagination in a delightful way!]
Death of a Rooster (Poetry) - 2/10/2026 9:07:29 AM
Why did the rooster cross the road? Probably on his morning journey to crow his poetry wake up call. No "chick a dee, dee" was he. He was the "cock of doodle, do." At least until he met his fate. Became part of the dead poet society.
Reminded me of my hotel room in a sealed, air-conditioned ninth floor in Manila, where a rooster reminded me it was morning every day.
Ron
I Want to See You Dance (Poetry) - 2/8/2026 6:31:59 AM
It has a lovely, dreamlike flow kinda intimate without being rushed, and romantic in a way that feels ancient rather than appeasing modernity.
I Want to See You Dance (Poetry) - 2/7/2026 1:48:41 PM
Cool video. I had my own private dancer for a few years. She is still a good friend. So I know what you mean.
Ron
It Was a Long and Lonely Night (Poetry) - 2/7/2026 11:57:28 AM
That was one hell of a run-on sentence. I'm very good at that. And also, a good example of how mental illness can bring even the brightest of us down the wrong path to oblivion.
Ron
It Was a Long and Lonely Night (Poetry) - 2/7/2026 7:08:55 AM
Most intriguing. My impression of it comes across as a sort of Kerouac'ian/Ginzbergian/Bukowskian amalgam. Ken Nordine would have declaimed it as 'Beat wordjazz' but with a focus that is direct and invasive. Nice. Nearly 40 years in the unmaking, too! [By the way, if you ever encounter another SciFi woman who looks as gorgeous as the one in your illustration (4FEB26), let me know. I'm soliciting crew members for a Tantric Mars Mission (a la McAfee in 2007-8), LoL.]
Science Fiction Woman (Poetry) - 2/5/2026 8:17:31 AM
This one, aside from being the usual excellent specimen of your works, resonates in several ways, since I was a SciFi "fan" back when people still knew of Asimov, Heinlein, Campbell and others of the post-WW2 SciFi flowering that ultimately winnowed down to a banal obsession among 'Trekkies', LoL. I also had a 'SciFi Woman' of my own (as a young Tom Corbett, Space Cadet' clone) in that we were both deeply 'into' Science-fiction Fandom' of the 50s/60s, attending WorldCons, writing 'fanzines' and using highly specialised SciFi patois. She was wonderfully weird (in an ethereal way), but so was I, so we got along like two bodies encapsulated in a single capstan-type partial pressure suit. Thanks for the virtual, allegorical passage back to the Far Ceti-IV realm of my youth! (PS: It was SciFi that opened Heinlein's fabulous 'Door Into Summer', that presaged my blossoming interests in mainstream & classic literature!). Nanu-nanu and Shazzbat!
Science Fiction Woman (Poetry) - 2/4/2026 2:03:21 PM
Where can I get one of those? I guess, like you did, in your dreams.
Very soon, we will have android companions that will allow us to do away with rigid human marriages and child bearing if we don't want to.
That's why I'm waiting around until my science fiction woman comes along. I'm writing her that way every day. Just like you did back in 2008.
Ron
The Soul’s Journey through the Zodiac (Poetry) - 2/4/2026 7:51:10 AM
Now you need to do a version on the Chinese Astrological Zodiac, Alex. This one is quite adept and an interesting memoriam to your father. Fathers are critically important for children and their ascent to mature, fully actualised adulthood, although, that said, I anxiously fear some man-hater of a feminist posting a commentary (or writing a book) on 'toxic fatherhood', sooner or later. The ultimate absurdity will be when a man-hating radical feminist 'cat mama' suddenly recants (partially) and launches a verbal cruise missile at the very real problem of feral cats (on Oahu, HI, alone for instance, the feral cat population is estimated to be about 350,000). Now there's something these politically histrionic females who bemoan 'male toxicity' can really take up as a legitimate cause celebre!
On a Poet’s Gravestone (Poetry) - 2/3/2026 12:06:20 PM
Has any fellow ever mastered poetry? Words just spit out in love or anger, sorrow or defeat. The stink of the feet?
No poetry on my gravestone. Won't even find my grave stone. Who needs one for ashes thrown to the wind.
Ron
I seem to recall that is what Robin Williams called his students in the Dead Poets Society.
All Poetry Sucks to Some Extent (Poetry) - 2/3/2026 11:14:06 AM
A healthy view of poetry. While some of the greatest highly quoted statements never made come from poetry, for the most part, poetry seems to be a way of making some kind of lament for what went wrong or therapy for those who can't seem to get it right–day or night.
For those that think that their poetry books will sell, think again. If you want future generations of your family to look back at what you wrote with pride, be careful.
Ron
On a Poet’s Gravestone (Poetry) - 2/3/2026 9:41:16 AM
Poetic food for rumination, Alex. But, I flatter myself... (or is it, more correctly, "flatten myself?").
"What really fattens a man is that
you (select love object of choice, here) think him worth fattening.
BURP!""
—( Not ever uttered by) GBS (Gorge B. Shamu)
All Poetry Sucks to Some Extent (Poetry) - 2/2/2026 6:18:56 AM
This one gets shared with a number of my colleagues in the Sacramento Bad Poets Society, all of whom shall doubtless welcome the encouragement to persevere in their efforts to exceed the 'nausea barrier' their efforts rarely penetrate and rise above. Greatly enjoyed this one, Alex (why are my ears tingling?). -K2
Beyond the Constellations of the Bears (Poetry) - 1/31/2026 9:13:44 AM
I hope you were successful with these lines of entreaty to Crystal to capture her heart. If she truly loved you, it really wouldn't matter what you put into a poem. She would see it as something wonderful that you gave her from your mind to hers.
Those four lines from Velimir Khlebnikov are stunning. I'm glad you shared them with us.
Ron
Beyond the Constellations of the Bears (Poetry) - 1/31/2026 6:14:23 AM
The beautifully naked truth at the heart of this piece penetrates like a perfectly fashioned magic arrow: shrug off religious gobbledegook for what it is (the desperation of the hopeless, confused masses who seek comfort in the midst of an experiential, vacuum) and embrace the only 'real' and 'present' evidence we spiritually blind creatures are permitted to perceive, the natural essence of our immediate insertion into the beautiful mysteries of the physical world we are so inextricably connected to, and exist within. Whether the product of an unknowable force beyond our ken or a cold, emotionless Master Computer Simulation Programmer somewhere off in an unguessed other dimension, what we see is what we got, like it yes or like it not. In this case, you argue for the former state of being and it's excellently expressed.
Through the Eyes of an Artist (Poetry) - 1/30/2026 2:43:14 PM
I reeled with every line of the truth of the matter. Except I don't see where monasteries are any better than skyscrapers. Both are subject to the gravity of their existence.
Deep down in our psyche, our brain, not immaculately created out of dust, but from the fact of all life, constantly eating its way through all the other forms of life. Our reptile brain forces us to overindulge without having to wait for a long period of existence before we eat again.
Ron
She’s Been Tuning Her Chakras (Poetry) - 1/28/2026 10:54:55 AM
There's something to be said for having a normal, healthy childhood. It's hard harder these days with all the distractions, particularly on the Internet.
The archtype you outlined here, you summed up with her early childhood and what did or didn't happen to her.
Give me a girl raised on a hard-working farm, outdoor savvy and an intellect to match. I've come across the girl you described, and she was way too far gone for me to rescue.
Ron
Café de Nuit (Poetry) - 1/25/2026 6:56:23 AM
I immediately clicked into this one, Alex. Van Gogh's perfect depiction of a nighttime cafe scene in Arles...your observations expressed perfectly...the bitter truth of all these hopeless, chaotic and self- destructive lives one sees irredeemably submerged in an alcoholic tsunami that overwhelms the spiritual soul... Stark realities such as these, perfectly captured in this 2002 take of yours invariably gives me pause to reflect further on the possibility that we (collectively, individually and species-encapsulating) do in fact exist in an emotionally devoid quantum (for lack of a better analogy) computer simulation, created by unknown intelligences that so far outstrip the primitive capabilities of our rudeness as to seem to be magik (sic). Bravo! Encore!
I Don't Want to Be a Poet (Poetry) - 1/20/2026 1:42:23 PM
Your lines…
"Or get some rise out of you,
Or to hear you flatter
My choice of words,
So that I can flatter
You in return—"
…resonate with AD posts and comments.
And you're right, I got into this poetry business to get laid. It got me one crazy wife.
Ron
I Don't Want to Be a Poet (Poetry) - 1/19/2026 4:20:57 PM
This certainly says a lot, Alex. And all, if my own experience is any reliable corroborator, verifiably true. At least half of the (SF) Bay Area "poets" I knew, back in Berzerkeley of the 70s, were on a poetic beaver hunt. And that's no slap-dash, tall-tail, either. Most were bucking for a "BLOOSH!", as a close buddy of mine who frequented Freight & Salvage on San Pablo so adroitly phrased it!
For Ed G. Biro (Poetry) - 1/10/2026 12:54:34 PM
You must've been close to him. That's quite an outpouring of emotion at that time in your life.
I resemble a good part of it, believe it or not. And you're right, even at the Friday night mixers where I danced real close and slow, I couldn't make a love connection in the student union that lasted. After walking about five girls back to the dorm who lived on the same floor and decided that I was persona non grata.
I hope you are beyond the idea of going out and committing a crime of last resort like I see now again, and again.
Ron
For Ed G. Biro (Poetry) - 1/9/2026 10:18:42 AM
I can feel the frantic frenzy of a psychological spiral of fast thoughts colliding with overwhelm.
For Ed G. Biro (Poetry) - 1/9/2026 8:21:37 AM
“Be silent and listen: have you recognized your madness and do you admit it? Have you noticed that all your foundations are completely mired in madness? Do you not want to recognize your madness and welcome it in a friendly manner? You wanted to accept everything. So accept madness too. Let the light of your madness shine, and it will suddenly dawn on you. Madness is not to be despised and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life...If you want to find paths, you should also not spurn madness, since it makes up such a great part of your nature...Be glad that you can recognize it, for you will thus avoid becoming its victim. Madness is a special form of the spirit and clings to all teachings and philosophies, but even more to daily life, since life itself is full of craziness and at bottom utterly illogical. Man strives toward reason only so that he can make rules for himself. Life itself has no rules. That is its mystery and its unknown law. What you call knowledge is an attempt to impose something comprehensible on life.” -c.Jung
“And how do you know that you're mad? "To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?" I suppose so, said Alice. "Well then," the Cat went on, "you see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags it's tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.” -L.Carroll
Internet Poets Are the Worst (Poetry) - 1/9/2026 8:10:29 AM
Powerful stuff, Alex, hell-on-wheels back on 2004 and still rockin' today. I note that the Minnesota woman (Renee Nicole Good) who was shot by an officer in Minnesota a few days ago, in several eulogies posted on-line, was noted to be "...a wonderful, prize-winning poet." One has to wonder how "good" Good actually was at the game, given her naive provocateur-stance in that impromptu "protest" against those heartless, mean ole nasty ICE agents. Given the veracity of this piece of yours, I'd have to guess quite banal. Oh, and she was a "MOM", too (not a "mother", mind you, but a MOM (so we are told by the tear-jerker news media minions). How truly avant can an SUV MOM who is (presumably) a banal poet actually be, one has to wonder? Looks as if her one, solitary and spectacular "hot beer sh*t" moment was rather mortal... Perhaps an example of Orwell's 'doubleplusunGood', one wonders?
Internet Poets Are the Worst (Poetry) - 1/8/2026 1:07:02 PM
I love it. They are us. Why poetry doesn't sell.
Ron
America's Golden Age (Poetry) - 1/5/2026 11:26:43 AM
Well, Alex, as a Fire Dog, this year should be a good one for America and for me, as well, since the most complementary Chinese astrological signs for Dogs (Gou) are Tiger, Horse and Rabbit.
The Dog, Tiger, and Horse together form one of the four "Triangles of Affinity". Members of this group of three are naturally compatible because they are all driven by a sense of duty and a desire for social justice. ["Social justice", that is, in a traditional, conservative context, not in one of DEI, Wokeism and Critical Race Theory. The phrase "social justice", like so many others, has been sadly co-opted by the radical progressive left, so I felt it necessary to make this observation. In view of the above, I can frankly say I will not evidence any "flagging" enthusaism for America, but I do plan on doing a lot of "horsing around", as the year unfolds!
May the Kitchen God file a favorable report on you in Celestial Heaven and may there always be plenty of Chow Fun Noodles on your table and plenty of yummy, hot Char Siu Bao on hand, also!
America's Golden Age (Poetry) - 1/5/2026 10:00:27 AM
With Maduro gone and Tim Waltz dropping out of the Minnesota governor race, we are off to a great start. Happy New Year! I'm looking forward to the Year of the Horse in 2026. I finally published my latest poetry book "The Door: Selected Poems".
The Year of the Horse in 2026, specifically the Year of the Fire Horse, begins on February 17, 2026, and is associated with optimism, opportunity, and potential economic growth.
If Jesus Scratched His (Poetry) - 1/3/2026 11:20:19 AM
Remember reviewing this back then. I'm sure Jesus did. But those bastards who edited the scriptures made sure that they redacted every one of those human references so that he would become the baby that never grew old.
At least, that's what I'm told.
Ron
Ode to the Sun (Poetry) - 12/30/2025 9:24:40 AM
This paean to Sol reminds me, here in the depths of a bitterly frigid Solstice, that I'm overdue for a stay in Death Valley...one locale where Sol, that nuclear core of all human life, is worshipped as the healing, inspired source of our collective energy it truly is! As Henry John Deutchendorf, Jr., (AKA: John Denver) also reminded us, in his beautiful song "Sunshine on my Shoulders" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=diwuu_r6GJE), sunshine is the essence of us all... Sol warm us, each and every one!
Ode to the Sun (Poetry) - 12/29/2025 1:01:56 PM
Everything there is, is under the sun. I first was immersed when I heard Richie Havens cover at Woodstock.
Even when the temperature drops to near 30° these mornings, I can go out on the deck and feel the warmth that Old Sol gives me freely with vitamin D.
Still, in the background, I hear George crying, While My Guitar Gently Weeps.
Ron
For Mike Fagan (Poetry) - 12/29/2025 12:12:58 PM
The spirit of being a free spirit that apparently, Mike Fagan was.
Ron
The More Crap You Believe (Poetry) - 12/28/2025 6:36:04 AM
It's 32 degrees in the back yard at 0600 hours, here in Californicatia's Great Suckatomato Valley, and a cold blanket of post holiday joyfulness is slowly, languidly dissipating, leaving mere spiritual emptiness in its place. The only living mammalian life form in the house is the dog (she's a double-coated Husky); its human occupants are as physically cold as the Spirit of Christmas yet-to-come. However, all that burden of bleakness over the prospects of 'Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men' expiatorily shared, I turned on the PC (to generate some modest warmth) and am happy to report that your 2022 poem of 27 Dec warmed the cockles of my heart considerably, Alex. It always elevates my mood to run into examples of equanimous, clear-eyed reasoning amidst all the mindless joyfulness that taking a holiday week off from humanity's inherent homicidal tendencies brings to the kulak bourgoisie, bless their little deluded hearts! You rock, Alex!
I Can Remember (Poetry) - 12/24/2025 12:10:34 PM
I wish we all were that way–still children at a heart. But we tend to acquire discipline and discipline means leaving childish things behind. Alas.
But it helps to reach old age because we tend to get younger every day until we are completely dependent upon others, even to change our diapers.
Ron
Happy Winter Solstice (Poetry) - 12/22/2025 1:35:33 PM
Beautifully done taking in all the other celebrations around the world that rely on the solstice to mark the end of one season and the beginning of another.
I have embarked on writing a similar piece, but doubt that I will be able to reach the quality of this one.
Ron
Happy Winter Solstice (Poetry) - 12/21/2025 6:35:05 AM
Indeed, a most pleasant and enjoyable Solstice to you, Alex. Given my usual somewhat cynical and desultory moods, it's quite cathartic to see such a fitting and upbeat bit of hope for this chaotic mess we call 'humanity.' The pre-Christian pagans were unrestrained in their celebration of this turning point in sidereal seasonal change and, human sacrifices to pagan gods aside, it was enthusiasm well expended as a joyous affirmation of renewed hope and promise. As a non-religious person (except for a healthy dollop of ancient Hawai'ian mana in the mix), Solstice has always been for me personally an occasion to celebrate. Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanzaa, etc., not so much. But us Husky people also celebrate the spirit and character of our departed dogs on this occasion...in our case, no less than seven proto-Baltos. May the vast, unknowable cosmos be good to you in the new season ahead of us, Alex, and thanks for sharing your creative genius with us here!
Crazy Kids (Poetry) - 12/20/2025 8:49:36 AM
A few things I never thought of when I was a kid. Especially the dancing before the mirror or throwing fireballs at anything.
But the stupidest thing I did was smoke butts when I was seven. After getting an old building smoldering where we couldn't put it out, picked up by the cops. Helped me cut out a lot of other crazy things and grow up quicker.
Ron
Phenomenal Misfit (Poetry) - 12/19/2025 12:25:36 PM
The poem stands alone. I haven't read Phenomenal Woman to make any conclusion about how well you've parodied her.
Some misfits in this world create great things and some misfits don't.
Ron
A Spontaneous Idea for a Poem or How Is Your Soul? (Poetry) - 12/17/2025 2:05:16 PM
Another good one, Alex. I too was once a Harvey Kirtchner, a great many moons ago, but Officer Obie wanted to arrest me for being a lewd pubic bee-hiver on a railroad bridge. He so derailed my train of thought with that thoughtless act that I left the Kirtchners and began contemplatIng Betty-Jo Biolosky's navel, until I achieved nervy Vana's. With that, my sole effort to become a Seoul brother came to an occidental and precipitous (it was Monsoon season) end... -K2
Howl Revisited (Poetry) - 12/14/2025 10:26:50 AM
Powerful, Alex. And right straight to the heart of the 'heat', so to speak. Given Allen's hirsuteness, HOWL was a case of 'Hair today, gon tomale', but there's no question of his importance to the Beats (and his impact therefrom), on all of straight America. Interesting how creative gays have always been right at the center of most societies' social change. I have several books in my library that detail this fact and, before I read them, had no idea that homoerotism was so extensively prevalent in all cultures. There were likely even Neanderthal gays, and since our Western culture hails almost directly from ancient Hellenic Greece, it remains an inextricable confluence in our culture, one could argue. Fully aware of all this, I hasten to say that I have never disparaged or condemned homoerotism. What I object (strenuously) to is militant, activist gay radicalism. One's sexual preferences should, in my opinion, remain strictly a private matter and NOT forced upon others. Sorry...this is off the track a bit. The poem itself is wizard!
Howl Revisited (Poetry) - 12/14/2025 9:11:49 AM
Howling at the moon, indeed. Every generation has its
howlers expressing their angst about this or that and generally repeating the same old worry over and over hoping for an end that never comes.
Ron
November Song (Poetry) - 12/13/2025 8:19:10 AM
Classic Shaumyan! Like an RMSTitanic refloated!
November Song (Poetry) - 12/13/2025 8:18:49 AM
Nothing much has changed in the 32 years since 1993. Or for 1967, for that matter. I'm the "crippled" in the poem.
I regularly sing The House of the Rising Sun a cappella for her before going to bed. We watched that video the other night because she likes the voice of Eric Burden. Found out that he is still singing it with that great baritone.
Ron.
The Healing Wind (Poetry) - 12/12/2025 2:25:28 PM
Very soothing and peaceful to read. You helped calm down many a fervent heart who read it.
Ron
God Bless the Freaks (Poetry) - 12/12/2025 2:11:43 PM
I've read and commented before on this amazing piece. It's one of your very best.
A case where you never rest until you're sure that everything has been blessed.
Ron
For Aimée (Poetry) - 12/12/2025 1:47:09 PM
You outdid yourself wooing Aimée with the short red hair. I hope she reciprocated in some way so the rain would go away.
Ron
God Bless the Freaks (Poetry) - 12/11/2025 2:21:24 PM
Wow. Another drill-down into pure, molten angst. The irony drips from this piece like lava off a Hawai'ian cliff's verge... As Walt Kelly's protagonist Pogo Possum famously put it, "We have met the enemy and he is us." If it is true as the aphorism puts it, "Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer", but we already have roughly 10,000 years of "living closely with the enemy."
The woods are dark and full of creeps
And swamps to wade through that are deep,
Replete with Darwin's drowning sheep,
Replete with Darwin's drowning sheep.
Hitting the Mathematical Wall (Poetry) - 12/10/2025 12:25:14 PM
Written at a time when STEM was being pushed in schools. The M being math. Even more so today as the algorithms of AI, entirely of mathematical symbols, take away even the dismal jobs of the math devoid.
God bless the Arabs who came up with the decimal system. And the alphabet that we use for programming. God bless the Greeks who came up with the basic principles of the math.
Finally, God bless Sir Isaac Newton for creating the calculus…providing a wall for me to have to climb over.
Ron
Why Porcupines Eat Pork But Don’t Eat Pine (Poetry) - 12/10/2025 9:49:00 AM
The year of this poem, 1986, was early. But the irony of this poem is great. Proving that nonsense can get by as a poetic form without question by great critics of poetry. Trying to figure out what it means rather than just recognizing that it is simply nonsense.
I'm still wondering why there is no apple or pine in a pineapple. And why the New Englanders were so obsessed with the symbol of a pineapple as wealth?
On a deer hunt, my father tested his new rifle by killing a porcupine. Cutting open its guts, he discovered that porcupines pine for pine needles. Eating the winter fattened flesh, tasted like pork belly.
Ron
Why Porcupines Eat Pork But Don’t Eat Pine (Poetry) - 12/8/2025 1:49:34 PM
Another zinger from the past, Alex. It may make fun of donkeys but that's just equine with me. Thinking it all over, I feel that there was a very likely a killer frost on Robert F's pumpkin when he wrote the original...
Here's my killer frost rendition:
The Toad Not Taken
Two toads converged on some yellow snow
Both regretful it smelled so like crap,
For both were thirsty on that icy floe;
While one was diverted, peering into shadow,
Along came a car and squoosed him kersplat.
Er...sorry!
A Love Song (Poetry) - 12/7/2025 9:20:42 AM
I've seen it before. About everything that is ever thought of or said about love. Also true.
Paraphrasing Tina Turner, "What's love got to do with it?"
But I love it, every word of it.
Ron
A Love Song (Poetry) - 12/7/2025 9:18:18 AM
Rather excellent, Alex (despite a few moments of forced metre). Love is all of those things, of course, and hate is most often merely a rather incongruent (but still relative) form of love. I don't know why I am here reminded of the Japanese coital technique of 'Kubishime' (首絞め), also known more broadly as 'Chissoku Purei' (窒息プレイ), but as Hamlet never said to Horatio, "There are more things associated with human sexual practices than in all your philosophies..."). Perhaps the apex love interest of my own life was an XX person who was absolutely, hopelessly and impossibly incompatible with me in any possible context imaginable (also an ex-RC parochial student, despite her ending up with a doctorate). Her husband passed away recently but I find the spark of attraction in my 'lower brain' still pulses with molten magma when I think about her!
The Fuck Generation (Poetry) - 11/14/2025 8:30:12 AM
A 'HOWL-and-a-half', Alex!
2007, hmmm? That was the year that Russia planted a Titanium Russian flag on the very bottom of the Arctic floor (4261 meters, at Latitude 90 deg, North), the actual true North Pole, in a crewed Mir submersible (Arktika Expedition). Interesting story. [Speaking of places where no Ferlinghetti had ever gone before...lower even than the USS Nautilus had gone, on its famed underwater trans-navigation of the Arctic ice cap in 1958). However, as we all know, that's still not quite as low as shark sh*t (positively SHARKING)! [https://www.lecerclepolaire.com/the-true-north-pole-conquered-by-russians/]
This particular poem of yours is a noteworthy one, since it sums up almost perfectly the generational zeitgeist of youth everywhere (not just under the Arctic icecap) and it does so so very effingly well. You remain the premier poetic Wortmeister, Alex!
The Fuck Generation (Poetry) - 11/13/2025 12:29:29 PM
One of your best. Glad you're back posting it.
Reminds me a bit of the period right after WWII where everything was "Absurd."
Ron
A Writer Named Ron (Poetry) - 11/12/2025 2:57:12 AM
LOL praise and boredom.
perfectly formed comic limerick playful, ironic, and self-aware.
Short, sharp, and rather wickedly literate.
A Writer Named Ron (Poetry) - 11/1/2025 6:59:07 AM
I'm tempted to try being clever here, but prudence requires otherwise. Essentially all I can say is "WOW" and snicker quietly behind my hand (although your piece actually deserves thunderous cachinnation!).
A poet, with a bow taut and true,
Shot an arrow right up the wazoo.
It found its mark fine,
With a sting like off-wine.
The target would cringe, if it knew!
Washed-up Hippies in Revolt (Poetry) - 10/21/2025 9:48:43 AM
Powerful and rather biting poem, love the mocking of the hypocrisy of an aging counterculture. Quite the emotion and mind pictures light this up.
Retribution (Poetry) - 10/18/2025 8:57:31 AM
Indeed. Nothing seems hidden anymore. The times we are in are defined by accelerated disruption, hatred, violence, bizarre opinionism, radical division, a tension between integration and fragmentation, and a sharpening awareness of global inter-connectedness. This is a pivotal period, in Earths history, in which systemic vulnerabilities are increasingly exposed, challenging societies to adapt rapidly in the face of profound and compounding spiritual and socioeconomic changes. We are quickly approaching Daniel’s 70th Week. 'Stand your Ground' was a blessing. Love that particular form. We've listened to it several times and really enjoyed the message. Thanks for sharing. Hope you're well. rlc
For Charlie Kirk (Poetry) - 9/19/2025 10:11:28 AM
Well done Alex. In my remembrance: one of your better pieces, especially in content. As Charlie postulated: "If you believe in something, you need to have the courage to fight for those ideas - not run away from them, or try to silence them." May those fireworks continue to light the sky with truth and hope. Thank you for sharing. Hope you're well. r
For Charlie Kirk (Poetry) - 9/19/2025 6:45:01 AM
Excellent poetic eulogy, Alex. I very much like the reference to "We are Charlie!" Words are a literary minefield...more evidence that the pen has Multiple Independently Retargetable Vehicularity (as "MIRV" Griffin never said, but perhaps should have). We are indeed Charlie!
The Storm (Poetry) - 9/13/2025 10:16:27 AM
Good to see you back on AD again, Alex, with a full head of steam and 'all engines ahead-full.' There is so much that has already been said (and so much more to come) about this act of puerile, thoughtless rage, that mere words are inadequate to express the tragic grief 'right-thinking' people all feel over this latest egregious act (and betrayal of reason, logic and calm, non-violent debate). Thank you for your input, here!
The Door (Poetry) - 6/4/2024 2:36:15 PM
Our Lord waits by the door and hopes His children will open it and accept Him as our Creator of the Universe. What an excellent concept! Well done!
The Door (Poetry) - 4/5/2024 5:48:05 PM
This great written work really puts you on the spot to think higher and beyond. Valerie
The Door (Poetry) - 3/15/2024 1:28:15 PM
This one I like. I've long been a believer in the knowledge that lies within and that we all posess if we just look inside to find it.
The Door (Poetry) - 8/25/2022 10:31:37 PM
It takes courage to open the door and think for yourself. It is far easier to follow the masses. Well written piece
PS
The Door (Poetry) - 8/25/2022 5:40:37 PM
this was perfect. i love that- broadcasting what we all somewhat knew. thank you for writing this.
The Door (Poetry) - 8/24/2022 11:06:07 PM
Yes, Alex!!! This is definitely one of your best, and it's inspiring too!
Sandie
The Door (Poetry) - 8/24/2022 6:12:32 AM
Wow, this is definitely one of your best Alex. Cheers to your morning
