Home Bookmarks Archive Writing friends


64 years old from

The latest comments that jim has written.

Times New Roman

To say this is ace is an understatement. A *tour de force* is coming closer. I am so intrigued by this, and so happy to get lost in it, and emerge—yeah, the final stanza is ace. Ace all around.

Bookmarked, obviously.

Dabo ~


Humankind is biologically meant to cycle through quickly, and in the scheme of time we do, no more that a fleeting, procreating life, then gone. Short term or long, we fail and fail again to solve problems. Ultimately, whatever the cosmos is or does will absorb the detritus that was us.

Still, we have will, and can and do solve problems, but death, that still comes despite all. Maybe Trump can make a deal with Death, I'm pretty sure I can't.

Ramblings 379

i've read this several times, now while listening to the music. it's a poem that is cryptic, though a sense of it does come through. i don't know the "horizontal" and "vertical" mean, and i'm intrigued. i do understand the last two lines, that is clear (or is it?).

Purposeful and Pure Dog Sense

Your writing conveys so much, so well, and with so much of your unique style.

These lines were powerful and timely:

"All live in accordance of harmony
When the leader remains strong"

Truly, it made me think we, all of humankind, have failed, become too complicated, too quick to willfully disregard what is good and natural.

This poem is about dogs, yes, but it, to me, is about potential—what we as a people, and we as individuals could be, or possibly can be.


This is well worth the wait, Elle—masterful and enjoyable, and all yours. Brava ~


I find this compelling. Thank you for the insight.

Hugging an Alligator

I don't know much about alligators, it was a croc that took Hook's hand, and a croc that gave Crocodile Dundee that love bite, but I do know this is a fun poem, and fair warning!


To Aeronwy Thomas

Quoting a friend, "How you can write." It isn't a question, it's an endorsement.

Suzanne's Dolly Gift

The gift of salvation came at five, and lasted a lifetime.

There is something wonderful in knowing this story is true, or a variation of true. It reads gently, and the rhymes give a sense of a children's story, appropriately. And then it reads like a nightmare. But the image of a 77 year old Suzanne reaching back to her five year old self is what lasts.

A Fragile World

Bleached like the coral? In my world the change is undeniable, the evidence is everywhere. Why bother to deny it, yet so many do.

Images of childhood make this even more poignant.

Autumn turn

I enjoyed this very much. Can you hear me? I'm shouting.

Happy Autumn ~

Killer Poem

I'm being polled to death, but that's another story.

This is terrific, your wit is well whetted, and it made me say, "true that," which isn't something I say.

Dilli Bazaar

and what do you think of Devkota's poetry? did he get it right? is he still relevant in your world, in your life?

Thapathali Campus: A Burlesque of Life

In years and decades to come I expect you will look back at this poem as one that defines this time in your life. It is an epic recounting of a time and place, and the nature of change is in every word, and stagnation, the truth of both is apparent. the sense of change coming, for you, is strong, and this is a "looking back," poem, and equally forward looking.

the unstilted nature of you writing here is strong and honest, especially as it goes on after the first lines, gathering momentum, and ending thoughtfully. the final verse is one of sad triumph.

you separate yourself from the other students (sucking their beer bottles . . . ), and this separation, oh dear, may reveal that you really do have an artist's nature, looking in from the outside. the world needs artists, but it's hard to be the one looking in.

make sure to print this, and always keep it as a touchstone.

yet to be named

I've been reading your poems for many years now. Your voice has grown strong, you don't fool around with your words, you say it directly, and that's all to the good. It's good to see "montana" pop up again.

Take care,

weeping through the panes

There is good rain and bad rain (and purple rain, I suppose). This is the bad kind, that rains inside your mind. You've caught it perfectly. Brava!

Inside The Kingdom Of The Cheese

a little surrealism makes more sense sometimes than cold logic. I like this tearing up of reality, and reconfiguring it your way.

damn mice.

October Skies

I am not normally a fan of poetry about weather, but this is exceptionally gentle and vivid, and has caused me to rethink my prejudice on the subject.


A Rendezvous to Dine at Five

I love this, and identify as my world has "seniors" in it as well, and their youthfulness, humor, and insights making the time thoroughly pleasant.

Where did it go?

Your sense of humor and reality combine, again, to be spot on. It's always a pleasure to read your poems.



i love it!

Loose Screws

It used to be that when a screw was loose (metaphorical or otherwise), a little tightening with an ordinary screwdriver (metaphorical or otherwise) would fix it.

Now, you've got flat head, phillips head, square head, torx head, allen head, hex head—what's a body to do?

Kidding aside, robotic, unemotional limbs are no joking matter. How ones extricates themselves from such a tangle I don't know.

Wire cutters? Reverse polarity?

Good poem.


ah, you write for immortality!


As you said earlier—"you really got me!"

I hear song echoes in this poem, which is very good.


One sharp image after another; again, you've put into words feelings which are usually too elusive to describe. I enjoyed both your poems today very much.

Safety Rope

The second line says so much, yet poetry is all about feelings. You describe yours very well.

The Lonely Mermaid

This is as lovely as can be, like reading a sunset.

The trick is to keep looking

i like the atmosphere, a place to be alone, whether you like it or not—a gathering of weary souls.

Twice fried Chips

I have felt the fear and relief. Your poem captures the intensity of both emotions.

Holocaust Remembrance Day 27.1.2016

With age comes wisdom? The knowledge that it didn't have to be so?

My maternal and paternal great-grandparents came to the States from Germany in the 1850's, so my immediate family escaped the holocaust, but I (and my kids) think of those relatives that didn't emigrate. We are thinking of them today.

Thank you for sharing this, though painful.

The Zorro circle

Both of you poems today are serious, and serious in a way I can understand. But this poem, the Zorro poem of the ever-tightening circle, requires a Zen solution, or else. You have a sword. Cut it. Cut the noose.

I'm not being flippant, there has to be a way to think differently. Or else.

I'm so glad to see your poems again, though they are troubling.



This touches on the problem some have, including myself, of constantly assessing oneself and the world around you. It does take you out of the moment, and it is hard on those around you, and when I say "you" I mean me.

This is a pointed poem, NSW. You probably noticed.

Transiting Grande Isle

You and Elle write beautiful travelogues, hers more of the mind, yours of sea and granite and foliage. I enjoy them both. I especially enjoy this as I've never seen this part of the world, I would love to, and this adds to the pull.

A thoroughly enjoyable poem, Joe. An interesting beginning, and detail enough to convey what you mean to convey.


I share your sentiment. It is sad. I've done it myself, but I understand why it sometimes happens.

PoetBay is 10 years old!

Thanks to all three of you, and congratulations. Perhaps, sometime, you could give us a little history of how poetbay came into being.

Thanks again, it has been, and is, a great creative outlet and forum.


The Corner

. . . where the sad go to cry.


There is a lot of truth in your poem. The line that strikes me personally is "Mistakes of our fathers." i am hopeful my kids can survive my mistakes.


Such a realization can be traumatic, or liberating. For most it's both.

A thought provoking poem, short and simple and true.

Cherry Lipstick

Such a simple summation: cherry lipstick is always best. Why didn't I think of that?

This is wonder-full.


Optimism (Pantoum)

Perfect pantoum, with a hopeful message. I don't know how it is with others, but optimism and pessimism go hand in hand for me. Pessimism seems to come naturally, I have to fight for optimism. This poem is like a prayer, and a good one.


Mr Tumnus is not here

It is heroic to get on the bus, to do what has to be done every day. It would be a thousand times easier not to get on the bus.

& not "mask," rather "enhance, complement." N'est-ce pas?

Couplets are very satisfying.
Yes they are.


I remember, once upon a time, thinking seventy sounded quite old. Now it's seems quite reasonable, a nice round number, no where near old. Merely . . . ripe.

A beautiful poem of remembrance, for yourself, for us as well. I"m not far behind.

Happy Birthday, Joe. And many more.


Skeleton remains (Haiku)

I agree with macca, you've caught the sense of passing, and the associated sadness.


". . . nor needs to seek," stricks me as significant. It feels like a "next step, " for you.

Today the form of your poem felt wonderfully comfortable, as if seeing an old friend, free-ranging thoughts within a controlled framework.

The changing light, the window becoming a mirror, the turning inward is also familiar. Reflections indeed.

Greta Garbo

I mean this with all due respect and affection, I think you are Garbo-esque, with an air of mystery, wearing metaphorical, and as we see in your picture, non-metaphorical, sunglasses.

Ironically, this is a very revealing poem, with a well-defined sense of what you want, though the last line conflicts with some of the other lines.

from: The Spirit of Japan

As with so many things, serendipity plays a role in our lives. I have Rabindranath Tagore's "Gitanjali," on my bookshelf. I don't remember buying it, I've haven't read a word of it.

A time and a place for everything, it is time to read this book. Thank you. As always you've shown me something that would have gone unnoticed.

The Gift

A lovely poem, about sharing, and shared. Thank you.

Lines ten and eleven made me laugh. Here we call them F. T's. (Fuckin' Tourists). They arrive in the summer with the return of the turkey buzzards and robins.

"The Gift" is a good title for your poem. I've been thinking about something I read recently. The Catholic Church defines sin and charity as opposites. Your poem is charitable in nature—a gift.

The Stag

Your reference to R. J. takes me back. We've been at it, this poetry game, for a long time.

I especially appreciate the last five lines of this poem, from experience.


A thoughtful poem to go with a thoughtful gesture.

Monday Morning On The Road

This is a familiar scene. It evokes a "what if" feeling, what if life could really be this uncluttered. Not simple, but more simple than it has become.

In my world I would have written the third stanza more like this:

Young guys in faded filthy
Carhartts ball caps boots
Mope sullenly the day
Still looming heavily

I enjoyed the latest installment of our sea-faring adventure. I apologize for not commenting, but I read it, and was there with you.

Slightly seasick,