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    I am grateful for your sympathetic reaction, but worried about the ghosts it brought to your own surroundings, even if it meant the poems worked for you! But of course, they can probably work only for those who had the sad experience of sleeplessness… to Borges, Pessoa’s multiplicity and Saramago, I would add endless corridors of Kafka’s Castle, or even, if I may venture – Buzzati’s Tartar Steppe (if I were to translate it from Italian, I would have called it « The Tartar Desert »…) which influenced my views on life and which I find somewhat in your last poem – pls see my comment on your thread.
    How are you doing, Hack, it has been long since I was meaning to write to you, but was on the ways, taking care of friends, resting by tiny bits… and alas not in a peaceful desert, my dream… but peace to you and thanks for keeping in touch - Bar
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    Bar, The pieces on insomnia strike a chord that is uncomfortably close to my understanding. I only wish that I did not know the feel of that thought scattering daemon that haunts the hours when I beg for rest but know that it will not come. Together 1 and 2 take me to the gray hotel room of Saramago's imagination where Reis waits to speak to his own ghost (or creator God), a ghost awaiting a ghost. Awaiting fragments of thought that might make some patchwork whole, a piece of Camoes, Adamastor crowding in, Borges imagination lying open on the desk, the earthly flesh of the maid calling out which is the dream, which is the haunting, where is peace, why will sleep not enter this fragmented clutter and make it whole. I ramble my friend, not enough sleep.
    (and with it sweet dreams)

    Wow, Wayne, I must say I feel your comment at least as strongly as I felt my Insomnia I and II while I was surrendering to them in writing… ++
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    wayne, hack, thank you for your words - I will reply to you very shortly - my days are so crowded and peace is far... I am in the middle of writing to you - by bits! peace to you and thanks for your last visitor's warm message...
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    Beautifully put, my liege, and I return the wish...
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    just to make sure you got my thanks for your comment on "a crack of a second" -
    I am sorry my thanks come so late!
    Without further delay (and with apologies for this) thanks a lot Prince, Hack, Sophie, Morpheus for your kind comments and appreciation.
    Prince: Elgar's cello concerto's is introduced with an exquisite legato which to my ears has something of a detached, sad acceptance, and comfort... you could find bits of it on you tubes..
    Morpheus: error corrected, thanks for bringing my attention to it, as well as for your spontaneous reaction...
    Hack: autos da fe for ever painful... and so "justified" by the holy church! "If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned" John (15:6)
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    Hack, have a wonderful holiday!
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    you're welcome! I'll see you around
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    I enjoyed Hairy the cat very much. It's so delightful yet brought tears to my eyes. I read it just before I left for the vet. Your poems are very accessible, I hope to see more. So glad you joined the forum. You brought back quality. Thanks for this wonderful piece, it's such a nice surprise
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    I will go and look for that piece now, case I neglected to comment on it before.
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    Hack, thanks for your lengthy explanation which somewhat enriches my poor knowledge of the history of America. Now I can re-read your poem more comfortably. I find it so touching you took that special care and wrote for your long long dead ancestors... I have some technical questions - are you notified when I post a visitor message here? for I see that till now we navigated between here and PM.. so just in case, I'm going to post the same on your PM (while packing... for I am leaving in three days now)
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Recent Entries


by hack on 11-26-2010 at 11:49 AM
What's the answer to my birth?
When's the time to pierce the earth?

Where's the hand to hold the spade?
At whose feet are empires laid?

Who's the man to dig my grave?
Which is monarch, which the slave?

Updated 11-28-2010 at 01:39 AM by hack



by hack on 11-14-2010 at 11:57 PM
Foam spray springs skyward
from a ragged wind torn sea,
churned to lace
by gods more ancient
than breath.

only the silence remains

by hack on 08-18-2010 at 10:59 AM
where glacier greets sea
the crashing, calving flow
gives voice to every storm
that added to its stream,
replies to each stone
overturned by groaning ice,
and rings with echoes
of the shearing squeal of
rock etching rock

then asea,
as centuries bob
in new disquiet,
ice becomes the sea,
and melts into
the depths
of its own

Updated 09-04-2010 at 12:11 AM by hack


Flew the Nest

by hack on 07-06-2010 at 12:13 AM
This morning at about 8 AM the two hummingbird
fledglings at the front door left their nest. We have been watching them closely, even before they hatched. The serendipity of the placement of the nest, on a chain hanging from a reflective plate at the entryway, has allowed us to peek into the nest at will. The young birds were incredibly tiny when they hatched. They grew steadily at first, then in a short period of about three days, they went through a growth spurt, and they were gone. We

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The Gospel According to Skeeter (Book II)

by hack on 07-03-2010 at 01:28 AM
Paying the Toll

Skeet and me in the last pew
listenin' to some trash
somethin' bout our savior
and givin' up our cash

We just have two nickles
Skeet says give em one
I tell Skeeter ten percent
is the way I heard it's done

Skeeter says you can't make change
when they pass the plate
so he leaves a nickle
to get us through the gate

I tell Skeet it might be fine
if we was

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Updated 07-03-2010 at 12:13 PM by hack