Finally!!!!

Well fear fans, as I have promised, my new book of Poetryhas been released through the good people at The Backwaters Press. It is entitled LEAVENWORTH STREET, and features poetry that has never been published!! Look for it on Amazon &/or Barnes and Noble. I hope you all will enjoy!!


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Location:My living room

Guess what?

My newest book of poetry is now available through the usual sources. It is entitled LEAVENWORTH STREET and is published by The Bacwaters Press.
As soon as I can get someone to help me upgrade my webpage, things will be a bit simpler.

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Location:S 34th St,Omaha,United States

Monday morning/afternoon

I think I am failing at this Twitter thing, just like the way I keep up with this blog. Are you expected to read ALL of the "tweets," downloaded to me AND come up with as many of my own as I can?

I can barely keep with reading of comic books and discovering new channels on digital cable!!

I always thought that I was this cosmo-future-techno type guy, but now I wonder.


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Maybe this will work. . .

If this program works as well as the blurb says it does, maybe all these struggles and whiny excuses will finally end.


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Memories of 9/11 and Mikel

I tried to tell this story over in Twitter-land, but 140 characters just would not do it.

Since the "anniversary" of 9/11, I have been flashing back to this one central chunk of memory:

The day after the towers fell, I went to visit my best friend, Mikel, who was in hospice care after fighting the "good fight" with HIV and AIDS. There were so many times that we all thought we were going to lose him over the years that we had so much trouble (I know I did) accepting the fact that this time he was really going to die.

Anyways, when I came into his room, he had the small television (that I guess came with each room) turned onto the news (just like everyone did those first few days), and the light from that small box mixed with the afternoon light that escaped through the half-pulled drapes to give his skin an ashy glow.

He had lost so much weight by then. His six foot-five inch fame just couldn't fill out the hundred some pounds making him look like the proverbial skeleton-man

As I walked in, he turned his head to greet me.

"Have you been watching this, Brian?" he asked.

"Sure," I answered. I even told him that I had been watching the BBC news (on the BBC America channel) to see what the rest of the world was saying about this. He nodded, an then looked at me hard,

"Crazy times, " he mumbled, and then he gave me a look of pity, as if he was glad to be passing away now before anything else happened, and at the same time, I could feel his sorrow that I would still be here to experience it all.

That look he shot me haunts me sometimes. I remember his eyes, and the few short weeks he stayed with us, until passing that Halloween morning.

So every 9/11 I think about him, and that afternoon in his hospice room. And I wonder if he is still glad that he left before things "got worse."

An old Poem, but I still like it.

This is probably somewhere in here, but I got a request:

Also, my NEW book, LEAVENWORTH STEET, will be out in the next two months!!!!!! Will have more info as it comes. . . .

Back to the poem!

A Letter to Neil

Dear Mr. Gaiman: Thank you for your gift

of the Sandman. Your stories have changed me;

now I see us all as anthologies, collections

of tales threaded together. I am sure I have my

own wing in the Dream Lord's library, the resting

place of all fables, even the ones that live and die

in one short daydream. I have my own collection

of trinkets, mementos, and souvenirs. Sometimes

I tell my mysteries like Cain, spearing them down

as a warning to the captured listener; sometimes

I share my secrets like Abel, breathing them out

to scatter and grow in the reader's fields.

I am a shopping-mall poet looking to make

my own boutique in the world. I have a teacher

who tells me of other woodcutters (because that's

all poetry is; the filing off of prose until only

the poem remains. I will admit that some cut

too deeply while others just knock on the wood.)

and the tales of the few words they left behind.

I want to thank you for your image of Death,

a beautiful elfin-girl who gives you a nudge

in the end and says, "excuse me, but you need

to go over here now. By the way, how has your

trip been?"

I remember the first day I saw her on your pages,

when she met her dream-king brother at a fountain.

I remember the walk they took as she went on her rounds,

and old song Morpheaus thought of as she moved

through the day "..... death is before me today,

like water to quench a thirst.....," or something like that.

I remember her warming-smile. It was one of the things

I thought about three years ago when the AIDS-volunteer

gave me a positive reading. It still is something that comes

to mind in the mornings as I count my pills.

I share your stories with my friends, some have

bodies and fluids that betray them bit by bit

because they are swimming in this plague too.

They learned about the day Morningstar gave up Hell,

locked all the doors and shushed sinners and demons

away. He registered his complaint of still paying for

his fall three billion years ago, and gave the keys

to Dream. We laugh at the little ironies as we take

study drugs. (There's enough of it right here on earth,

thank you very much.)

Your stories open deep wounds, bring new facets

into the light, and poke fun when we get too serious.

No wonder you have such wonderful artists to draw

these tales. I never knew my childhood love-affair of

comic books and muscle-clad heroes with flowing capes

and far-fetched powers would bring me to your corner

of the medium. You have given me faith in my own tale;

I can appreciate each chapter that made me what I am.

Thank you again, Brian.

Guess What?

Keep watching this space, fear fans, cuz soon there will be some new and exciting news floatng your way!!!!!!

Slowly, and I hope "but surely," the fog is lifting, and I think I can keep my attention apan going to attempt some poetry.

Maybe t is due to the fact that my third book is coming out. If you have read this blog before, you may recognize some of the poems in it, but now you can have a hardcover copy (with some really cool artwork too!).

More later.

Hope all is well with you and yours, and thanks for reading.