Images for Xmas

Google Strangle Hold

OK, I do NOT have a gmail account. BUT since other free providers have abandoned me, I have resorted to google sites to have a site to complement this blog, a google affair.
So google me, if you know what I mean:
https://sites.google.com/site/caplandsite/

thanksgiving?

After a colorful holiday feast, I posted (elsewhere) to announce that H & H in Austin had published my
"thanks-giving" poem on their site.... but as a Beatles song once sang: "no reply..." What am I to think?

Wedding bells, of sorts

On the Verge of Epithalamium


M.F. was some sort of modern dramatist a kind
of combination voice coach and counselor
unable to vanquish the temptation to be seen
and heard saying you can stand on ceremony
or lie in waiting or simply sit on your hands
but please stay gainfully aware that

be you bereft of
blatantly better options
it remains rightfully preferable to
lop a little logic off your
largesseless alliteration
and affirm with ardor
—in these exact and very words—

I’ll aim to amble down the aisle to urge her
to go ahead and conclude the proceedings
with the alacrity of an actress who can’t
resist rest and the audacity of an actor
so dedicated to his lore and craft that
aft and fore melt within a vessel
of acquatic merger

YYY journal !!!

http://www.synapse.net/kgerken/Y-1109.HTM

Every so often I send a batch of poems to a print or e-zine vehicle.
Every so so often one of these outlets chooses to reproduce my submission.
And so it has happened this month of September 2011, see above link.
We remain gratefully yours for the attention dispensed.
ChAP

summer fun

imagine flying cross country to SJC from ATL
and then driving a rent car to Santa Cruz!
and then to Sunny San Francisco!
and eventually to SFO to catch a PDX on AA,
headed for a FLING with WGHS elders, class
of 196x. This is not fiction but an itinerary.
Shudder.

Nouvelle poeme

Names Suppressed to Protect the Innocent (May 20, 2011)

Z. was actually a character in a story, a novel, a narrative,
maybe a movie, a film, a cinematic adventure, perhaps
a drama, a stage play, a live spoken theatre production.
Z. (the fictional personage) suffered a terrible compulsion:
to utter the obvious, to speak the unadulterated truth,
to shout the king has no clothes, to say the queen is a loon,
the singer’s lost his nose, the neighbor belongs in a bin,
the colleague’s struck a pose with no rational backing,
the hostess has skin disease plural, while her daughter
is in kin straits, for she’ll do anything to please the court
of public opinion or of her lone son, since he’s addicted,
to rhyme and reason and witless appeals to lost and
last letters.

Lyric Little

Well before my unrequested transfer to this particular lovely outpost,
I was fully aware of the meanings of distance and gin joint,
a place of business vending spirits, often clear and distilled versions.
Now I hear it's become risky to rear one's gentle head
in salons of genteel brutes, in places of odd commerce.
The roots of cognizance can be tricky.

RIP: Benedito Nunes. Grande professor de filosofia-poesia-crítica-vida.
I studied one semester with him in 1980 and have benefitted from his wisdom every term since.

sorella

Poem in homage to the deceased feline SAM in Santa Cruz CA by my sister, go to:
http://members.cox.net/patriciaperrone.
grazie.