https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/user-167-norm-milliken en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Tue, 09 Jun 2026 01:02:01 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12536-i-imagine-you https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12536-i-imagine-you     I imagine you pulling polished blades, fulcrumed in oarlocks smooth-silent, that lift and drop and cut moon-ivory water. your breath rhythms to splash-slip soundless seas, unknowns breaking surface, iridescent arcs of soar and shimmer foreign in this air beautiful in this air and you pull ever outward, everlasting wrapping you ‘round shoulders, back to front, the way ahead unseen. norm milliken The Personal Space of Norman Milliken Sun, 22 Aug 2010 22:51:06 GMT /section-378-the-personal-space-of-norman-milliken#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12536 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12536 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12536 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12535-untitled https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12535-untitled   words rush up in night’s safe harbor   bang me hard against piers   pull me seaward and strain moorings norm milliken The Personal Space of Norman Milliken Sun, 22 Aug 2010 22:48:45 GMT /section-378-the-personal-space-of-norman-milliken#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12535 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12535 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12535 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12352-arrival https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12352-arrival                                               April is a word                       unknown to buds                       and brambles. spring’s green breeze spring’s green breeze brings red-wing blackbirds to weather-dull hickory fence posts lining country roads, and mud-after-rain shimmers under blue, blue sky. ... more norm milliken Poetry Sat, 06 Mar 2010 00:34:46 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12352 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12352 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12352 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12351-i-imagine-you https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12351-i-imagine-you pulling polished blades, fulcrumed in oarlocks smooth-silent, that lift and drop and cut moon-ivory water. your breath rhythms to splash-slip soundless seas, unknowns breaking surface, iridescent arcs of soar and shimmer foreign in this air beautiful in this air and you pull ever outward, everlasting wrapping you ‘round shoulders, back to front, the way ahead unseen. norm milliken Poetry Sat, 06 Mar 2010 00:26:56 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12351 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12351 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12351 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12028-the-edge-of-things https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-12028-the-edge-of-things the edge of things   comes as a surprise that warps through the days and hides in ambush along the ridge lines of dreams,   stumbled into in a careless moment, a sudden wind of unfoldings.   the edge of things shimmers in the mind like the thrill   of falling to your death. ... more norm milliken Poetry Fri, 23 Oct 2009 00:05:01 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/12028 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/12028 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A12028 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11122-i-imagine-you https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-11122-i-imagine-you I imagine you   pulling polished blades, fulcrumed in oarlocks smooth-silent, that lift and drop and cut moon-ivory water.   your breath rhythms to splash-slip soundless seas, unknowns breaking surface,   iridescent arcs of soar and shimmer foreign in this air beautiful in this air   and you pull ever ... more norm milliken Poetry Mon, 30 Mar 2009 19:41:34 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/11122 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/11122 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A11122 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10714-words-rush-up https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10714-words-rush-up   words rush up in night’s safe harbor   bang me hard against piers   pull me seaward and strain moorings norm milliken Poetry Sun, 25 Jan 2009 15:23:51 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10714 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10714 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10714 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10712-airlift https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10712-airlift airlift   the heavy drone of machine movement caught us coming or going,   put us out in night alone.   I took up exercises of the past, thinking through the days   never knowing or believing, just bangbangbang of gears, a kind of falling apart sound, loose as us.   ... more norm milliken Poetry Sun, 25 Jan 2009 15:22:02 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10712 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10712 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10712 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10299-noel https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10299-noel noel I should write of snow and winding valleys, roads to reunions and pleasures hidden until dawn. instead I wander through dreams that once wandered through me. there was the sled I wanted so, and the little rifle that never shot pellets. I had a cowboy hat, though. I was a cowboy once.   I should write of covenants and feasts, lights and singing. midnights. yet one year I knew how to be a cowboy with just a hat. ... more milliken norman Poetry Tue, 25 Nov 2008 18:08:51 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10299 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10299 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10299 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10285-bedside-manners https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10285-bedside-manners bedside manners hours wait and bend the day while blood is drawn and x-rays read. patients drift from sleep to pain to sleep again as bedside-weary prayers simplify.        “some jello         or crackers.         anything without the nausea.” and heart monitor spikes sinus peaks green above the bed.     milliken norman Poetry Sun, 23 Nov 2008 15:15:11 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10285 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10285 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10285 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9974-on-poetry https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9974-on-poetry on poetry   I imagine you pulling polished blades that lift and drop and cut moon-ivory water,   while fulcrumed in oarlocks smooth and silent, your breath rhythms to oar splash slipping soundless seas.   unknowns break surface,   iridescent arcs of soar and shimmer- foreign in this air- beautiful in this air, ... more norm Poetry Fri, 24 Oct 2008 17:03:28 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9974 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9974 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9974 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-4733-ch-47-chinook-crashes-in-rescue-attempt.-sixteen-die. https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-4733-ch-47-chinook-crashes-in-rescue-attempt.-sixteen-die. CH-47 Chinook crashes in rescue attempt. sixteen die. memory sleeps beneath time’s blanket, closes its eyes, and disappears in dream. life is leveled, edges beveled smooth and regular. days pass. thirty-seven years later a helicopter is shot down in Afghanistan. men are lost and fear chokes me again, high above hills and jungle, taking fire from below, a Chinook just like theirs, frantic to fly away. norm The Personal Space of Norman Milliken Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-378-the-personal-space-of-norman-milliken#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/4733 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/4733 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A4733 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9329-we-wait https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9329-we-wait   we wait patient empty vessels in flat water sometimes slipping anchor floundering sail less in headwinds and strange seas norm Poetry Wed, 22 Oct 2008 01:50:31 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9329 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9329 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9329 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9328-before-he-was-fifty-six https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9328-before-he-was-fifty-six     before he was fifty-six and old with cancer and life, my father framed himself in my memory. musky goldenrod and autumn cold clung to his Woolrich hunting coat, came through the house and stayed long enough to never forget me. norm Poetry Sun, 07 Sep 2008 01:29:45 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9328 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9328 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9328 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9318-untitled-poem https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9318-untitled-poem     words rush up in night’s safe harbor bang me hard against piers pull me seaward and strain moorings norm Poetry Fri, 15 Aug 2008 20:55:14 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9318 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9318 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9318 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9221-running-with-my-son https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9221-running-with-my-son (it was 10 degrees when we started. in the hemlock shade, the only sound was that of our breathing) norm Poetry Sun, 20 Jul 2008 20:27:19 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9221 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9221 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9221 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9187-3-haiku https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9187-3-haiku April rain morning sends bird to bush’s shelter- window-cat chatter! when children leave home snowfall and midnight drift in on quiet footsteps dust and afternoon paint horses’ flanks with summer’s heavy, August light   norm Poetry Thu, 17 Jul 2008 22:12:41 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9187 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9187 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9187 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9185-it-is-cold https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9185-it-is-cold it is cold it is cold that we might be thankful for warmth. it is dark that we might rejoice in the light. there is hunger that we might understand the blessing of food. and loneliness that we should seek love. and yet many will never be warm or brightened or nourished or held close in the dark. what are their comparisons to be? is not the world a strange, unfathomable place to spend one's days?   norm Poetry Thu, 17 Jul 2008 16:28:48 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9185 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9185 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9185 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9173-morning https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9173-morning   morning   I lie motionless along sleep’s edge looking for one more dream before the day smothers me norm Poetry Thu, 17 Jul 2008 16:34:50 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9173 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9173 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9173 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9155-broad-street-singers https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9155-broad-street-singers broad street singers                   (the winter of 1969, Philadelphia Naval Hospital) they never heard us. night after night the city fathers (that raft of riff), brothered our love but wouldn’t keep us. we was their expressway for we had done wrong. gone wrong. too much reminding, so they drove after us. sure as time, they caught us. broke and hurt as we were, spirit-tough was our way. they knew there was a fight. ... more norm Poetry Sun, 13 Jul 2008 23:34:54 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9155 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9155 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9155 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9137-a-halloween-memory https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9137-a-halloween-memory it's not seasonal, but this heat has me longing for late October norm Poetry Sat, 12 Jul 2008 18:58:30 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9137 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9137 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9137 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9115-a-shau-valley https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9115-a-shau-valley A Shau Valley we were going where men died. helicopters ferried us to the green infinity. we carried so much. it was hard to move under the weight. one chopper landed, and another. then the fire came. I was choking on fear as we were strewn into those impossible mountains. some of me never made it home.   norm Poetry Mon, 07 Jul 2008 00:27:26 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9115 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9115 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9115 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9111-horse-pen-branch-campsite https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9111-horse-pen-branch-campsite   Horse Pen Branch campsite my little fire and I spent the first few hours of darkness making smoke to chase away dusk mosquitoes.   two days from Washington I was already missing the trail behind me.   I fed sticks to flames until I couldn’t keep my eyes open.   my hair was choke cherry and sumac burned branches ... more norm Poetry Sun, 06 Jul 2008 22:12:22 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9111 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9111 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9111 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9053-chess-exhibit-maryhill-museum https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9053-chess-exhibit-maryhill-museum near Goldendale, WA, Columbia River Gorge beautiful chess sets, perhaps a hundred of them, were on exhibit at the Maryhill Museum. some classical, some whimsical, some simply strange. an old Chinese woman and her son spent hours looking at the sets, particularly the Eastern ones. chess exhibit, Maryhill Museum a shrunken woman with ancient, ivory skin stretched across her face, moved from exhibit to exhibit examining chessmen. her son, old himself, stepped in the stream of Mandarin, answered questions, and translated signs that told of histories and dynasties. they lingered long in that place, patient and slow, attending to detail and design. they studied puzzle-box bishops, whalebone kings, and soapstone pawns polished with years. ... more norm Poetry Tue, 24 Jun 2008 18:32:34 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9053 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9053 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9053 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9052-sometimes-words-are https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9052-sometimes-words-are sometimes words are not enough, all there are, all you need, more than you have spilling like water, filling every space, filling every space, even space so small that whole words won't fit, but they fit, and they crowd in one upon the other, words from everywhere, words spelled and said and wished and thought, words flying from mothers at children, from the lost to God, words in love in lovers lost in desire, yes, even those wordless words. and last words, lost words, mumbled across death, errant words like Thoreau's "moose, Indian" and sometimes, it is said, amen ... more norm Poetry Fri, 10 Jul 2009 02:11:03 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9052 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9052 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9052 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9028-earth-orbit https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9028-earth-orbit Earth orbit in a quiet voice she read her plan to brighten life and space. she would swallow heaven, one shooting star at a time. catch cross currents on her tongue. a billion brilliant years of light, cosmic secrets spun silent and fast as hope, slipping between teeth and lips, landing in the heart. norm Poetry Tue, 24 Jun 2008 21:44:00 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9028 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9028 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9028 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9027-washday https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9027-washday washday sheets hung outside dry crisp and smell of sunlight and June mornings. wild canaries balance on lines above percale sails that snap in the wind. norm Poetry Tue, 24 Jun 2008 21:37:16 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9027 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9027 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9027 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9025-on-mount-nebo https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-9025-on-mount-nebo on Mount Nebo Moses sat with God and talked about the promised land. "I thought it was the water from stone. We were so thirsty. I wrote that down. The future will remember disobedience. And then I conjectured stupidity, that I was just lost. You could have pointed me, parted the wilderness." they sat like brothers. God didn't speak. "They think I'm still strong, that my eyes aren't gone. I'm old. I can hardly see my next step. So, tell me, are there trees there across the Jordan?" and though God was silent, there were trees. it was the promised land. ... more norm Poetry Wed, 25 Jun 2008 13:39:51 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 6 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/9025 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/9025 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A9025 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8951-alchemist https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8951-alchemist                    (from my Snow White poems) alchemist he had never designed a poison comb, but knew the tincture would be easy. newt blood for texture- mercury for effect. and mushrooms. the kingdom was full of them. once completed it was all in the presentation. vanity would hold it in place. "what color is the girl's hair?" he asked. "black," the queen said, the word widening her eyes.   norm Poetry Thu, 12 Jun 2008 16:01:29 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8951 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8951 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8951 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8932-syntax https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8932-syntax          (from my Snow White poems)  syntax her body was a slender sentence without punctuation no periods or pauses commas or clauses unparsed by the heaviness of death she lay lighter than life words run-on from hair to hip to heel diagrammed in satin glass and wood norm Poetry Tue, 24 Jun 2008 22:14:00 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8932 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8932 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8932 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8922-the-death-of-the-alchemist https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8922-the-death-of-the-alchemist (from my Snow White poems) the death of the alchemist rumors ran riot when the alchemist died. some suspected suicide and murder was muttered more than once. he had made enemies, after all. in his heyday potions by the pound poured from his hands. inventive invitations of beauty, brains, sleeps and banes, and though he kerchiefed his face against feral fumes, he surely spent seconds drifting dizzy on his way to the window.         the cats found him first,         rubbing the door frame         like the leg         of a milk maid.         fears and dreams,         promises and punishments,         tangled up         on the floor, ashy white,         still.                    (with gratitude to Jamie Agnello, my faithful critic) ... more norm Poetry Sun, 08 Jun 2008 23:36:23 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8922 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8922 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8922 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8921-swimming https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8921-swimming   swimming on Tuesday afternoon the water is rough with wind. I swim out three hundred feet and am seized with the idea that I will drown. I am filled with absolute panic. when I reach the shore, I am exhausted. I lie on my back for a long time, shaking. on an unbearably hot day I stand waist deep in the water. my feet are wedged between rocks, and the glare from the sun makes my head throb. I almost feel that I am falling. in a moment I will lie forward and stretch slowly into movement, but now I sway in the water like seaweed. the lake current is nearly imperceptible. ... more norm The Personal Space of Norman Milliken Sun, 08 Jun 2008 23:43:53 GMT /section-378-the-personal-space-of-norman-milliken#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8921 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8921 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8921 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8920-philadelphia-naval-hospital https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8920-philadelphia-naval-hospital Philadelphia Naval Hospital wet afternoons of waiting out of the sun to hear we would never walk, would never talk, would never run. mornings spent drunk forever calling the miles in voices worn out of time, hurt sounds of rhyme, hard dreams, no smiles. months, only hours of looking into the maze to see where we couldn't go, dying to know and living for days. hospital midnights ‘til April. up with no hands in the lost talk of legs, strong plastic pegs in the gone-away lands. norm Poetry Sun, 08 Jun 2008 17:10:27 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8920 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8920 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8920 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8792-a-note-on-walt-s-suicide https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8792-a-note-on-walt-s-suicide a note on Walt's suicide we ran so fast, Walt, and never got home. just tired. more than thirty years now, and I can't remember sleeping one night straight through. I want to think you're somewhere where you can sleep without dreaming. no more war. no more hospital. I miss you. Walt cracked up in Vietnam after most of his platoon was killed in an attack near Monkey Mountain. I had been at Parris Island with him, and saw him next in the Philadelphia Naval Hospital in the winter of '69. He was hard to control so they loaded him up on barbiturates until he was a zombie. He was eventually discharged, went home, couldn't shake the addiction, and killed himself just before Easter, 1976. ... more norm Poetry Mon, 02 Jun 2008 21:39:38 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8792 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8792 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8792 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8787-we-were-caught https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8787-we-were-caught we were caught we were caught in forever. right on the edge of oblivion. dizzy from the height. we walked a narrow path between yesterday and tomorrow. up there along those ridge lines we played dangerous games with eternity. after we went home some of us couldn't shake the image of a long, beautiful fall into death. norm The Personal Space of Norman Milliken Mon, 02 Jun 2008 02:10:50 GMT /section-378-the-personal-space-of-norman-milliken#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8787 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8787 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8787 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8779-senility https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8779-senility                          (from my Cinderella poems) senility when she was old she told her grandchildren of mice become horses, the pumpkin carriage, the flight of stairs at midnight. "yes nana," they dutifully chorused, minds elsewhere, as she repeated the only memory she had left. norm Poetry Sat, 31 May 2008 20:24:17 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8779 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8779 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8779 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8735-love-pens-itself https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8735-love-pens-itself love pens itself love pens itself in winter words of silver moon and silver light, when lips find lips when hands embrace and lovers lie warm skin to skin warm face to face. beneath love's blanket of desire the body's verse writes o'er itself in wind-washed snow, in star-lost sight and lovers lie in present tense like secrets in the night. love pens itself as winter moves the water under ice, and ‘he' and ‘she' speak quietly of fields and frost in willow trees and lovers lie warm sleep to sleep and sail on winter seas, and lovers lie warm dream to dream and sail on winter seas. ... more norm Poetry Fri, 10 Jul 2009 02:10:01 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 6 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8735 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8735 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8735 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8679-cat-in-the-morning https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8679-cat-in-the-morning cat in the morning our big cat sits at the water bowl- full brimmed and glassy with kitchen walls poor-mirrored dull and flat- and stares as if divining mystery with her little brain and big eyes motionless constant purring paused as cat eternity lapses then dips down her tongue stirs surface stirs room and drinks norm Poetry Thu, 22 May 2008 19:49:04 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8679 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8679 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8679 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8663-after-baldwinsville https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8663-after-baldwinsville after Baldwinsville there along the road the old familiar pain caved me in. I was ready to quit that traveling that road that everything, but your voice pulled me upright stood me up put me back together. "we're stopping early," you announced. that night, along Lake Oneida, your perfect hands coaxed me from despair to desire. norm Poetry Wed, 21 May 2008 14:10:38 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8663 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8663 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8663 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8563-factory https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8563-factory factory sun drifts down dust stairs through rows of machines shredding dreams, tappet rhythm     your life     your life     your life as evening dims windows high above the floor. norm The Personal Space of Norman Milliken Sat, 10 May 2008 18:04:55 GMT /section-378-the-personal-space-of-norman-milliken#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8563 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8563 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8563 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8442-on-open-water https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8442-on-open-water on open water we are careful in the canoes. it is winter and open water fills with ice. we glide as winter geese. our paddles cut the lake. we are quiet in our care. this silver water could empty us into forever. it is cold without the sun. we draw water under us, calm and flat, move easily from shore to forest. owl must hunt in light since snows have come. until he bends his flight, he is winter breast and wing. our canoes are light. we stay close by shore. we travel carefully on open water. (this is from a recurrent dream I have had since childhood, literally for as long as I can remember. I think it's a recollection of a past existence of mine in the Northeastern forests.) ... more norm Poetry Fri, 02 May 2008 10:29:51 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8442 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8442 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8442 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8435-war-time https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8435-war-time war time Seneca Lake sinks deep six hundred feet or more. measurements differ. far from spies’ eyes, it tested submarines in World War II. endless tons of water washed decks, bulged bulkheads, and raveled nerves even without sonar pings or depth charge thumps.         and I imagine stationed sailors         blue-suited on Geneva sidewalks,         grinning boyish grins at girls         while children sit on hills         to watch periscopes         cut the lake         and slip silent         into cold, dark places. norm Poetry Thu, 01 May 2008 14:21:44 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8435 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8435 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8435 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8434-the-souls-of-animals https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8434-the-souls-of-animals the souls of animals               they wait beyond time, unknowing, uncaught in sin and self. furred, feathered, leathered, shelled and scaled, simple souls in animate impulse, follow suns and moons, waters and winds without guile. their bodies breathe the ancient litany of tooth and wing, hoof and fin, of life to death. the souls of animals wait quietly, content to have never left god (my brother-in-law, a pastor, once remarked, with the surety associated with an obvious fact, that animals had no souls and, therefore, would not go on after this existence) norm Poetry Thu, 01 May 2008 17:25:15 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8434 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8434 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8434 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8419-raccoon-death https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8419-raccoon-death raccoon death bloated bodies straddle center lines and shoulders on country two-lanes. night transits promise grubs, nuts, worms, and crayfish startling backwards through dark water. so in the dark angling across sun-warm asphalt, they waddle under wheels and thump down the road, ringed tails full and bushy, even in death. norm Poetry Fri, 02 May 2008 10:30:16 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8419 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8419 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8419 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8396-ice-storm https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8396-ice-storm ice storm wind skipped and sheared over ice buckled up half way to Canada. ice smooth and broken, clear and opaque, wind-pebbled on trees, snow-blown in fields.   I covered you and you slept, your head in my lap, while the crack and drone of moving ice filled the room.                           (on the shore of Lake Erie, North East, Pennsylvania)  norm Poetry Tue, 29 Apr 2008 01:23:17 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8396 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8396 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8396 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8388-towpath-in-the-rain-after-verona-beach https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8388-towpath-in-the-rain-after-verona-beach towpath in the rain after Verona Beach there were turtles everywhere along the path, negotiating steep banks and brush to lay eggs in the rough soil. rain brought them up from water, glowing-green algae shells iridescent there in the cloud-light of late morning summer storm. somewhere they were categorized and Latinized across pages by genus, species, but there, at egg time, they inched along quietly, content to be slow and wet.               (biking along the Erie Canal, summer of 2001) norm Poetry Mon, 28 Apr 2008 23:10:49 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8388 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8388 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8388 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8387-thoughts-in-the-paw-paw-tunnel-chesapeake-ohio-canal https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8387-thoughts-in-the-paw-paw-tunnel-chesapeake-ohio-canal thoughts in the Paw Paw Tunnel, Chesapeake & Ohio Canal there is no light in the Paw Paw Tunnel, just a towpath, wooden railing, and patch of open more than three thousand feet away. the Potomac bends here again and again, until carving a hole through a mountain made sense. I wondered about those Irish workers who came to build it, laboring in the dangerous, dark work like the mines they left behind. I imagined them digging by torch light, shovels and picks punctuating Gaelic curses, and fires at night on the ground where they slept. though I could see sunlight at either end of the tunnel, inside it was black as night. ... more norm Poetry Mon, 28 Apr 2008 20:24:24 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8387 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8387 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8387 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8358-hunger-hunts https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8358-hunger-hunts                    one of my Hansel and Gretel poems hunger hunts hunger hunts ahead, yet recalls smells, tells tales of taste and textured scenes round tables in rafter-roofed rooms, fire warm and filled with memory, now real then fancy, free of empty-belly wanting, draws each step deeper into promise closer with the romance that any little bit served sweet enough is home.   norm Poetry Sat, 26 Apr 2008 00:17:27 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8358 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8358 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8358 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8262-in-low-light https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8262-in-low-light depression is a thankless land, peopled with shadows and emptiness....  in low light gene glitch. family heirloom painted gray, woven from lead thread to be properly heavy. passed through generations father/son mother/daughter. the same empty longing for something, anything, new or bright or savory. days stretched over years of wanting to fall into sleep and wander there forever, where land- scapes hold perfect dreams of not having to wake up again     norm Poetry Thu, 17 Apr 2008 01:42:47 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8262 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8262 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8262 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8233-tailor https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8233-tailor tailor if you were lying naked next to me, lost in dreams, I would sew you clothes from words I know, seamless-syllable stitched by hand.   ink thread. I would drape a linen blouse around you from behind, wove with arms and heat and chest-to-back, pearl buttons of hands across your breasts, and sleeves cut long from wistful and yesterday. for your feet, slippers of sand and soft, soled with journey. and a sheer skirt of lips and tongue, loose folds of fingers and August sun would tangle wet between your legs, ... more norm Poetry Wed, 16 Apr 2008 18:09:00 GMT /section-379-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8233 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8233 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8233