DESCRIPTION
A collection of of verse - River Bank With For Sale Sign, A Weed In A Yard Where A Fence Has Fallen, Abandoned Azaleas In A Vacant Lot, Earth's Rainbows, Moths. [161 words]
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Duane Locke, Doctor of Philosophy in Renaissance Literature, Professor Emeritus of the Humanities, Poet in Residence at University of Tampa for over twenty years, he has had over 2,000 of his own poems published in over 500 print magazines such as American Poetry Review, Nation, Literary Quarterly, Black Moon, and Bitter Oleander, is author of 14 books of poems, his latest being WATCHING WISTERIA, as a cyber-poet, since Sept 1, 1999 has had 665 acceptances of his poems by online e zines, photographer, listed in PSA's WHO'S WHO as one of the top twenty nature photographers, currently has 45 of his Alley photos accepted on line (These are pictures made of discards and trash in alleys. He moves in close to find a design that speaks beauty from what people have thrown away), painter, currently having a one-man show of over 30 painting at the Pyramid gallery in Tampa, winner for poetry of the Edna St. Vincent Millay, Charles Agnoff, and Walt Whitman awards, now lives alone and isolated in the sunny Tampa slums. He lives estranged and as an alien, not understanding the customs, the costumes, the language, some form of postmodern English, of his surroundings. The egregious ugliness of his neighborhood has been mitigated by the esthetic efforts of the police who put up bright orange and yellow posters on each post to advertise the location is a shopping mall for drugs. His recreational activities are drinking wine, listening to old operas, and reading postmodern philosophy. [February 2000]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1) The Well Wrought Gate, A Collection (Poetry) A Collection: The Well Wrought Gate, Black Rabbits And Lettuce, Joseph, After The Annunciation, A Poem Inspired By George Herbert' "Jordan", A Polish Blonde. [372 words]
River Bank, A Collection Duane Locke
River Bank With For Sale Sign
Goldenrods hide the river's trickle, It flows until it has five fingers. Fingernails are small blue stones, Each stone Has the large green eyes And face of a dragonfly.
A Weed In A Yard Where A Fence Has Fallen
I breathe, My breath goes out into the world.
I breathe, The thin stem of a tall weed With a flower, pink-white, Moth-shaped, Quivers.
The flower thanks me for supplying music For her dance, Spreads open her pink-white wings.
Abandoned Azaleas In A Vacant Lot
Azaleas are reading aloud Stories from Arabia.. There purple camels in the stories, Small white donkeys With ears shaped like ascots. There are sand dunes That look like the arms of stars.
Earth's Rainbows
The opal ring On her slender finger Looked like The neck feathers Of a blue pigeon Caressed by the hands Of the sun.
Moths
Moths At five o'clock Came to the bush To let their wings Talk to flowers Wearing red dresses.
We sat on white sand Awaiting This tête-à-tête.
Moths are always Punctual.
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