A dog passes without its
master as the blind man
rides to market. He flits
...
I left the road, tramped
in the fields until I came
to a forest growing dark.
...
The lights went off all over
the city. Everything was down.
Becoming eerily disconnected
...
Blind Man's Dream
A dog passes without its
master as the blind man
rides to market. He flits
about - drawn to blueberries,
red clay hearts, postcards,
sparks of green in a girl’s eye.
Frightened he doesn’t see
himself in mirrors, he fights
wakefulness - as darkness will
surely resume its vigilance,
and once again, he will climb
out of presence into absence.
John, your work is flawless. I love coming into your personal treasure trove and wandering, reading, being enjoyably lost for however long I stay. Thank you for giving me such beauty to visit. My very warmest regards and respect, CJ
My favorite poet of all time. A master of the craft and art of poetry. I can still recite one of your early works........Daddy's Tomato Ketchup.........ingredients: Distilled Water, Tomatoes, tomato puree, vinegar, salt.
I think you are missed here John. I heard great things about you when I arrived here, from Wendy et al, but you'd just left and I didn't get the chance to read you. I like what I' ve seen, and think the site and forum would benefit from your return - now that things are much more civilised than they were (reaching for bunce!) . It's a pity that Denis is so rarely here these days too. jim
I find the slight detachment in your poetry effective, it is as if one sees the thing in question through an unbaised eye and makes for greater realization of the significance of the event or item described. Your concise wording is elegant.
John is (and I say this without hyperbole) one of the truely great poets of today. His humanitarianism overwhelms the reader and demand that his works are read over and over as if they were a beautiful piece of music, that you keep the repeat button of your CD player on. The craftsmanship of John's work forces itself on the reader and one, instantly, recognises that this is not the work of someone who dashes out pieces, this is the work of a real artist. At times John transcends the medium of poetry and presents us with a picture or a film. His works force us to use our intelligence and imagination.
Dear John, I find your poems are thoughtful and heartfelt, accessibile and yet elegant...human heart talking to human heart. They have great integrity, besides being models of craft (which some others may be able to appreciate more than I) . I feel richer for reading them, and knowing you.
I am awed by your talent, John. But fortunate to be able to read you. Thanks for expanding my heart and my imagination... I hadn't realised that I'd borrowed lines of yours, until I re-read you today...