“And the the ocean was no more…”


when she asked me about revelation I stopped
onions half chopped crowding my cutting board
the scent assaulting me
I stopped
to answer
to tell
stories of world’s end and
horsemen and
books and beauty in chaos
that train-wreck prophet
I always picture with wild eyes
soft lips
arms ready to embrace or evade
like onions
before heat
and oil
when she asked me about revelation
I stopped
her eyes wild
lips soft
arms ready to embrace or evade
like a child
gone missing
this young woman having taken her place
some panic, some evidence rising
to my gut, my heart, my face
then wet and streaming
it was the onions
I’m explaining
and the ocean was no more

©2012 adc


sound and water…

Last year at this time I wrote a poem around the theme of Advent. It was my first and so far my only Advent related poem. I thought I’d give myself an assignment in this season of preparation to write each day of December some small thing regarding Advent. For the most part, I’m doing this because I hate to shop and I’m not skilled at cooking and for some reason whenever I think of holidays all I can visualize is shopping and cooking…and that’s plain wrong.

So to kick off this Advent writing gig I’ll post the poem I wrote last year…and see where it takes us.


Advent: sound and water


the season shift

not always conveyed

by weather or intention

I yield then

to other channels-

shopping or television,

blinking lights

adding population

to otherwise bare porches

pulsing noise

into my arms

coursing into my veins

a river I cannot ride

only swim

only drown

until, through the din

of sound and water

it comes-


a small child,

voice cutting through

the low hanging trees

of branches stinging

the singing rocks

the timbre ringing

takes my face

between two soft hands

each time I look away

with tenderness and

firm conviction


look here

see this now