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POETRY

I posted the poem And Now She Knows in this section because it came up while I was introducing myself on the long winded About Michael page.

In reality, where I probably will post essays, letters and opinions somewhat randomly, according to whether or not something of interest is happening somewhere, my poetry is fairly organized. I’ve written four books of poetry. My plan is to post the books, so to speak.

I guess I could wait until some publisher recognizes my brilliance but, as that hasn’t happened in 41 years, I just might go ahead and let the visitors enjoy the poetry “on the house”.

All four of the books are registered with The Library of Congress, therefore copyrighted.

As much as it would be an honor if you used parts of any of my works, I would hope that no one would post, print or take credit for any of them in full.

My wish is for you find some of them inspiring, enjoyable and/or moving one way or another.

The first book is called “MICHAEL’S BOOK OF POETRY and some other assorted foolish verses”.

As you can tell, I’m one of the few people who really like my name.

Consequently, my parents almost single handedly titled the first book.

Of course they named me – at least I think they did.

And, as I mentioned on another page of this site, my father thought that my writing was foolishness and thought that I should give it up for “more important” endeavors. He always told me that I’d never get rich on my poetry or on my music and he was right in spite of his passionate encouragement.

The book is broken up into four chapters; “States of Hate”, “States of Love”, “States of Life” and “States of Dream”.

Hate, Life and Love will be somewhat self explanatory. I’ll try to include a brief explanation of the inspiration for each poem. I may not be successful 100% of the time.

I may even be less successful in “States of Dream” as the poetry contained in that chapter deals more with perception and feelings and doesn’t fit into the narrative, dramatic or lyric categories of poetry. Oh, you’ll see, you’ll see.

MICHAEL'S BOOK OF POETRY (and some other assorted foolish verses)

I want to thank those of you who read and made thoughtful comments on the poems contained in “MICHAEL’S BOOK OF POETRY (and some other assorted foolish verses)”

Normally, the question you ask after reading “23 august 1971 years later at 735 a m my time”, “What the fuck were you on when you wrote this!”, not only doesn’t offend me, but is a legitimate question. A lot of poetry that I’ve written fits into the “States of Dream” category. They’re not all in “States of Dream” in “MICHAEL’S BOOK OF POETRY (and some other assorted foolish verses)”, either.

One part of my youth that was stable was my address. When I was between the ages of one day and thirteen years, my family moved around a bit. They moved to different parts of the same basic ten or fifteen mile area of Southeastern Connecticut. We moved from one neighborhood to another. In two cases, racism was the major reason for moving out of neighborhoods.

We finally settled in a house in which I lived from the age of fourteen until I passed the “nuptial test” which allowed me to move out of my parents’ home. I was twenty-two years old when permission was granted.

One can hardly be married four times without attending what turned out to be extended slumber parties at a variety of residences. During my adulthood, including those unmarried moments, I’ve inhabited no fewer than twelve residences.

The last home in which I lived was on a lovely suburban street called Kingfisher Way. Tina and I were in the process of looking for a home when my folks, getting on in years, offered to sell us their home at a reduced rate. It was a pretty good suburban type house, but Tina and I discussed it in great length and, with some trepidation, agreed to accept the offer.

It should be known that I had been “delayered” by that time and I was job hunting and job hopping at the time. Suddenly, after providing for three families with what was the kind of decent wage that was once available to the middle class, my income, or lack thereof, could not help in securing a loan to buy the home on Kingfisher Way.

Another possible problem that we hoped would not see the light of day was that the purchase of the home on Kingfisher way could create criticism and guilt, adding to an already pentiful inventory.

Luckily, Tina had been working for six or seven years for the very same Fortune 500 multinational corporation for which I worked for 25 years. Her wage was good, although, when inflation was taken into account, she, six years into her career, was making far less than I made six years into my career with the same corporation. What that corporation pays new employees today is helping to pound the final nails into the coffin of what used to be a middle class.

While at Kingfisher Way I looked for work, feeling like a beggar, like the kid looking for a job. “Yes sir, I’m a very hard worker. Yes sir, I’ll work any hours you want me to work.”

While at Kingfisher Way, I was intensely and incredibly humiliated by my exemption from any financial responsibility for the ownership of that house.

While at Kingfisher Way, I teetered on the edge of whatever this period of time between birth and death really is.

While at Kingfisher Way, I learned a lot about what makes a person teeter in such a way.

While at Kingfisher Way, I learned that biologically based mental illness is no different than biologically based diabetes and biologically based asthma. It can be treated and how one’s life progresses, whether by one’s own actions or by the actions of others, the physical condition can manifest itself in ways not easily understood by others.

While at Kingfisher Way, my writing became prolific and some of it was even published. I was proud that my work was finally published. However, that fact was marginalized by those I’d wasted a life time trying to impress.

While at Kingfisher Way, I didn’t lose my biological family. While at Kingfisher way, I realized that I never had them.

While at Kingfisher way the muse had plenty of raw material with which to work and with my help, gave rise to

VERSES FROM KINGFISHER WAY

At the top of this page, I wrote that “I’ve written four books of poetry” and that…“all four of the books are registered with The Library of Congress, therefore copyrighted.”

The two books I’ve completed posting to this web site, MICHAEL’S BOOK OF POETRY (and some other assorted foolish verses) and VERSES FROM KINGFISHER WAY are indeed copyrighted and registered with The Library of Congress in the very same form presented on this site.

The two remaining books, MINUS THE MUSIC and Family Ties were submitted to The Library of Congress and copyrights were issued. However, they are both significantly different than they were at the time of submission and copyright issue. Technically I’ll update the copyrights when I’m finished updating the books.

In the case of Family Ties, I’ve been reviewing the poetry and I’m not satisfied with the quality. I know that I can do better and, therefore, will not post any of those poems until they are better.

I’m now going to begin posting MINUS THE MUSIC, although it’s a rework in progress.

The original title of the book was MINUS THE MUSIC And Some Poetry, Too. It contained a section of poetry and a section of song lyrics. As I’ve gone much further in publishing my music than I thought I would go when I launched this site, I’ve removed the song lyrics from the poetry book. So now it’s just a poetry book, not a song lyric and poetry book. Nonetheless, the whole idea behind the phrase “minus the music”, that “poems are songs-minus the music”, is still a valid idea.

I’m not implying that all poetry can be sung to simple, repetitive tunes containing a chorus, a refrain and other musical tools and mechanisms. Musical and percussive backgrounds occasionally accompany readings, which, for the most part, help augment the mood that a poet is trying to create. This, however, is not the “music” to which I refer in my phrase “minus the music”.

Poems, like music, use rhythm, sometimes rhyme and other emotive inducing methodologies to convey a story, true or fictitious, a tribute or a state of mind. Poetry, like music, isn’t a method of reporting, it’s a method of commentary. MINUS THE MUSIC is not separated into chapters as were the first two books posted to this site. It contains pages of poetry, one poem after another, grouped in only alphabetic order because that’s how they’re stored on my hard drive.

There may or may not be introductory or background explanatory notes which accompany the poetry. There will be poetry, both formatted and free verse, both transparent and cryptic.

Hopefully you enjoyed or were otherwise moved by some of the poetry in MICHAEL’S BOOK OF POETRY (and some other assorted foolish verses) and VERSES FROM KINGFISHER WAY and, even though it’s a rework in progress, you will find the poetry contained in MINUS THE MUSIC every bit as entertaining or, at least, interesting.

MINUS THE MUSIC

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