Poetry

by Kevin T McEneaney Valentine’s Day brims with mythology, whether Valentine or aggrieved Hamlet (as well as Romeo and Juliet) plus, billions of lovers in history, sketching lines of unknown…

by Kevin T McEneaney A master guitar player can hang you up on a note, thrill you with a quick chord, make you dream a dream you wanted to dream,…

by Kevin T McEneaney A vague beginning, unknowable end, in terms of timeline, and when it’s working, as it is now, one cannot calculate the number of snowflakes falling right…

by Kevin T McEneaney Voting produces damaging trauma. New statistics have been compiled by shrinks; stats reveal the trauma of shame endured by voters who voted for the loser. Deep…

  by Kevin T McEneaney A slurry, sloppy subject to speak of. In French: niege fondue, snow fondue, charmingly comic as cuisine comment. English appropriates the world from Welsh since…

Photo by Bill Keller by Bill Keller Call me up to the ridge, again. Though it’s late, and I’m tired, I’ll come,  climbing without my headlamp through lichens round as…

Verbank Village Falls by KTM by Kevin T McEneaney Rural Ramble   That gentle tapping of rain on the roof in winter offers a sigh of relief when landscape is…

by Kevin  T McEneaney All birds have been demoted for singing too early in the morning, also for appearing in too many lyric poems, thus, occupying space better given to…

by Kevin T McEneaney There’s a compelling need for ritual bringing us back to the center of self where music reverberates in the soul, creating our identity and smile.  …