David Whalen Poems

There’s a beauteous moment of clarity…
When it happens

A flash of prismatic pleasure…
...

Slats of sunshine…
laddered light

Beating back
...

The minute of failure

The little boy’s body stiffened, then relaxed. Stiffened then relaxed. Eyes wide open, staring fixedly, and unseeing at the ceiling.
...

Rain upon windows…
Dark bedroom walls

Shimmering pastel mists
...

A worldly man must first insist
That things of beauty still exist

That poetry must… in this world
...

Pastel blue eggs in robin’s nest
Spring breeze blows softly from the west

Kneading ripples on languid lake
...

Words are my toys
I have no others

Words are my playmates
...

Lord knows why
we just can’t read

The handwriting emblazoned
...

No, my friends...
I’m afraid he doesn’t
At least he never has
to me
...