Author: EAB

I wrote this little pair of interrelated verse about four or five weeks ago. I don’t know why I’ve been holding on to them. These are about sadness—Tristitia—and joy—Gaudium. ♥  FIDES I. Tristitia There’s a flicker, and it comes with the expectation that distraction has come to rescue her from the mouthy weight of inexorable…

I wrote this one in August ’10. Click on the image for fullsizeyness. My handwriting’s admittedly little tough in this one, so the full text is after the image. ♥ Eurydice I belong to you where the great enigmas collide. So I don’t care to practice restraint at this instant. I want to embrace it….

This poem was longlisted for the Fish Poetry Prize last spring, but alas, it missed the shortlist. I wrote it in July ’10, when I was in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica. It’s a terza rima box: thirteen lines, thirteen syllables per line. Click on the visual to view it in its full-sized glory in your…

During the summer of 2010, I wrote three poems that I subsequently submitted to a number of contests and literary journals to no avail. However, as developing a traditional publication record isn’t a priority at the moment, I’ve decided to post them. The first one’s below, and the others already have been scheduled to post…

Last time I posted a poem, I made an audio recording of it. This time, however, I felt compelled to write it out by hand—my nicest print, for my nicest cursive’s too large—and scan it in. It’s a twenty-line poem with twelve syllables per line and two broken lines where it felt like there ought…

As I was having the worst time getting to work, being a little soultired and heartbroken, I wrote an anaphora in free verse based upon the perplexities that were kicking around my head. I also made an audio recording of it. ♥ Temporary “Temporary” She carefully considered all the complaints at hand, and she paid…

I’m feeling generous, like I want to share a Work-in-Progress with all those who swim through the soup of the internet and stop on my page. For some reason, I can’t seem to finalize this poem, so what better way to stamp out these tentative feelings than to boldly post it—Forgive the split infinitive. Courage…