In the 1970s I was a much-published young poet. But I have since gone into hiding.
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Mike Finley Poems
i hear the chime of the poem's voice and in the notes you write a guy who hungers for truth and tells it too who understands that pain is the face
A Prayer For Poets
Let a thing be what we say it is, if a donkey is eating corn let the donkey not be an allegory nor the corn a corn byproduct.
Be a Better Poet
1. Stop talking and listen. Listen to yourself listening. Then listen to that. 2. Pile all your hats in the back yard and burn them. Especially any with feathers.
The Sugar House
The sugar house is shutting down,
High in the hills a man pulls fish from a stream.
A Prayer for Redefinition
How confusing it all is. 'Humility' suggests crouching. But what it means is relaxing, Allowing happiness to happen.
A Prayer Against Pride
You are the winking stream, We are all hiccup and failure. You are love, a perfect dream.
Proof of God
Is in the breath so simple. Breathe in, breathe out, Then tell where one begins And the other ends.
A Prayer at Planting Time
The hardest lesson of the sinner Is that all is in you, and nothing in him. Why are we given these garrulous minds If the end-challenge is only to submit?
you strip like an ear of corn gold & beautiful silk tumbling
You were innocent, you shared The prejudices that connected us Like prayer, and the world held firm Behind its insipid certainties.
~God must love crazy people
He made so many of us When we talk to ourselves on a busy street and not talking into a cellphone
Living Without Friends
You told yourself you could do this without them If you had their help it would undo the purpose Recused yourself from the argument at hand And folded into quietness there
A Prayer for Truth
We know you are the self-concealed God because to do otherwise, skulking behind sycamores, would be a dead giveaway.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
i hear the chime of the poem's voice
and in the notes you write
a guy who hungers for truth and tells it too
who understands that pain is the face
of injustice in an off-kilter world
some feel a lot, some shoosh through life
as through an operation
and I know what it is like to fall forever
and wonder how there coud be
anything additional below
no whiskered root to grab hold of
but this is not all there is
or why we were so intense for so long
why rage against a world
that can't help being broken?
your fire is proof that fire ...