Category: Joline

  • Back to work, Joline

    I am finally back to my thoughts and story surrounding Joline.  I have been working on prose and poetry while filling in her background.  For some additional inspiration, I watched the movie “Hanna” for the second time.  The lead character and some of the visuals, enhanced by an excellent sound track by the Chemical Brothers,…

  • Story of Joline – Continued

    I have been writing more about Joline, continuing the story with her coming home, and being alone for the first time in years.  I will post this tomorrow, with photos.

  • The Story of Joline

    In 1993, while taking a poetry class at the U of M, I started an epic poem about mankind’s history, called the “Proven Life”.  Though it is still not finished almost 20-years later (which seems somewhat appropriate), the central character was a girl named Joline.  Over the ensuing years, she has visited some poems, and…

  • Fragments Across the Empty Field

    He longs for home of which he is unsure, what that home entails, where  the road begins. He left.  In  one sense he had never arrived. Long nights turn cold.   The belly of this beast emerges with bared teeth and claws, leaving two choices: accept the proposition, or move outside of yourself. Tiny fragments…

  • Glass

    She stares across the dining room table past the empty chair through the streaked glass at the aging willow tree while caressing her left wrist and the pink valley.

  • Russian City Center

    1. Easterly wind pushes yesterdays news past the corner of main and 5th. A metal pole stands empty, except for the petite light blond girl leaning at a slight angle, hair rustling. 2. It is December 7th. Low hanging sun graces ice with orange light, each shattered window. 3. The city center of the old…

  • Poem – A Visit

    This poem saved my writing career, more of an aspiration, a few years ago.  Many hours spent in the submission process finally paid off when Whistling Shade kindly accepted it for publication.  At that time, it represented a new writing style and format for myself.  I wanted to create a conversation between a child and…

  • Harvard Street

    Within this small space connected to the non-sterile Outside space swathed in greying light, So much energy enters, exits, combines and consumes Each other, my awareness bounces amongst Many beings and I become anxious, Unable to concentrate, unable to focus, and for a moment Stuck on this plane, unable to advance to the next. My…

  • What We are Given

    She stares out the lessening window. Rain hits hard against her forehead against the glass. Cold seeps into the hand falling away falling down. Where are you? This city is foreign, this city is not home. Alone the dark approaches from beyond the black waters beyond the seventh floor. Music fills the space between deep…