Eric Paul Shaffer
Biography of Eric Paul Shaffer
Eric Paul Shaffer is author of five books and one chapbook of poems. LAHAINA NOON (Leaping Dog Press,2005) contains poems of local life in the Hawai‘ian islands and received a 2006 Ka Palapala Po‘okela Book Award of Excellence from the Hawai‘i Book Publishers Association. LIVING AT THE MONASTERY, WORKING IN THE KITCHEN (Leaping Dog Press,2001) and PORTABLE PLANET (Leaping Dog Press,2000) contain poems written on Okinawa during the eight years he lived in Japan. INSTANT MYTHOLOGY (Backer Editions,1999) is a chapbook of selected favorite poems. RATTLESNAKE RIDER (Longhand Press,1990) contains poems of living, traveling, and exploring in New Mexico and California. KINDLING: POEMS FROM TWO POETS (Longhand Press,1988) contains early poems by Shaffer and his long-time friend James Taylor III. He also edited and wrote a critical introduction for Lew Welch's HOW I READ GERTRUDE STEIN (Grey Fox Press,1996) . THE FELONY STICK, a chapbook of his short fiction was published in 2006, and BURN & LEARN, his first novel, will appear in late 2007 or early 2008. Shaffer is the recipent of the 2002 Elliot Cades Award for Literature, an endowed literary award presented each year to an established writer in Hawai‘i.
Eric Paul Shaffer's Works:
THE FELONY STICK (Leaping Dog Press,2006)
LAHAINA NOON (Leaping Dog Press,2005)
YOU ARE HERE (Obscure Publications,2004)
LIVING AT THE MONASTERY, WORKING IN THE KITCHEN (Leaping Dog Press,2001)
PORTABLE PLANET (Leaping Dog Press,2000)
INSTANT MYTHOLOGY (Backer Editions,1999)
HOW I READ GERTRUDE STEIN (Grey Fox Press,1996)
RATTLESNAKE RIDER (Longhand Press,1990)
KINDLING: POEMS FROM TWO POETS (Longhand Press,1988; with James Taylor III)
Eric Paul Shaffer Poems
She Says All Women Are Liquid
A woman is liquid because she flows. She carves arcs and curves in the vessel she forms. She is moved by the moon. She is a fluent force that endures in all senses, for the world as it is without her
Welcome To The Planet: A Greeting For Ne...
This day, we welcome you. We teach our ways to greet you. We are one kind among many the world encircles.
The Famous Poet's Wife
At the podium, the famous poet is having sex with his wife in the poem he reads tonight. He uses the four-letter word. The act is all ankles and elbows, slits and staffs, grunting,
Lovers On Pulehu Road, Between The Sugar...
His beat-up green pickup faces Haleakala, her thrashed Celica toward K-Mart, on the shoulder of Pulehu Road. The lovers stand in roadside mud, arms encircling
Yadokari: Hermit Crab, Okinawa
He borrows his house, as I borrow mine. We are strangers where we live. This little crab makes me think
The Flying Flag: On September 11
Call them mad, call them evil, they are men with ideas like the ones we celebrate on the proper occasions: God,
Driving Up To The Poet's House
From the road below the volcano, the poet's house is burning. Fire flashes from windows, yet the next curve reveals reflections
White Trash Landscape
Everything is temporary. Pickets are plywood, walls aluminum, and gardens plastic. There are no nails, only screws. Coffee cups and ashtrays yellow through dull afternoons.
Today, I'm a shadowless man. The sun calls me into the street, and I walk alone into the light of noon. The moment has come.
For Veronica, Instead
For centuries, poets have been getting it wrong. They bring 'one perfect rose' to show their love to their lovers, but now I think
Rime For Mr. Frost
Some favor fire to end the world. Cold is kinder. From life to light in flames unfurled, some favor fire to end the world.
A Festival Of Crescents
On the day of the eclipse, he was well on his way when the sky darkened. The first shadow was like a cloud across the sun, but the darkness grew. He would never reach home in time to cast the dwindling image on a sheet
The Famous Poet's Wife
At the podium, the famous poet is having sex with his wife
in the poem he reads tonight. He uses the four-letter word.
The act is all ankles and elbows, slits and staffs, grunting,
sweating, and unnaturally assumed positions. Naturally,
I'm embarrassed because I can see the famous poet's wife
squirming in her chair as he caresses the heft of her breast,
the eager spread of her knees, and a tiny, beautiful blemish