A Dish Lonely

A dish lonely for its keeper
Stares up at me.  Its circle wide,
With vivid hues and facets fired
In far-off lands of old, the pride

Of the discerning feline's taste.
Adored of a fervor not known,
Each morn receiving more earnest
Kisses than any royal throne.

An object of keen scrutiny,
That dish, a gaze of fix direct
Noting any slight change at all
Day long, its keeper to inspect.

'Tis true, she haunted its corner
With a fidelity unsworn
In the strongest oaths under sky.
Never ever left it forlorn,

'Til now.  Mighty though be feline
Will, there are greater forces yet
At work, as its keeper was called
Afield.  Beyond all sunnings set.

I sigh, then, and do what I must
Each eve, heaping the dish lonely
High, for a new keeper to find
And make that hers, one and only.

© Jeff Stilwell 2012

Two Hearts at Seattle Poetry Slam

I've decided to put it out there and compete in the Seattle Poetry Slam tomorrow night!  (Nervous beads of sweat slide slowly down the hapless poet's brow.)

They want a performance piece, so I'll be doing my Two Hearts...

Wish me a broken leg and come along for the fun!  It's a $5 cover charge at Re-bar, starting at 8:30 pm (a block off Boren and Howell).

See you there!

Fighting For Eden Royalty

Just got news this morning that I'm about to receive my first royalty check from Amazon Kindle for sales of my novel, Fighting for Eden!

It's not a lot, and I have to wait until May 1st.  Nevertheless, it feels awfully grand!

If you don't have a Kindle (or Nook, etc), and still want to read FFE, Lulu Publishing has a nice paperback available.

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An Empty Space

An empty space!  In which to fill,
To dream, delight, to fancy, too!
Day's brightest dares, night's darkest mares
All given shape, breadth, vivid hue.

The Artist sets to work, creates
Through sweat, toil, blood and fire
A world ne'er seen, nor known
To tease, excite, enlarge, inspire

Our lives.  A success, free for all!
The Others, too.  Their art not known
The Created they then covet
To take, steal and own, theirs alone.

The Artist the Others pursue,
Target, smear his name to disgrace.
Fear, their banner; safety, their sign
Proclaimed, to chase him from the space.

The Artist retreats, heart-stained weeps
His love, his loss, all that he knew.
He wanders, rent, a time long spent
His agony his only due,

In search, to find, one day, anew...

An empty space!  In which to fill
To dream, delight, to fancy, too!

© Jeff Stilwell 2012

A Rare Political Moment

One of the few remarks I expect to make about Campaign 2012.  At this point, I see...

One candidate appears unwilling to act on the best ideas; the other, all too eager to act on the worst ones.

Teacup Tipsy Candids

Feeling nostalgic today after a fan raved about seeing this whimsical fable of mine...


MAN IN THE BOX
(to audience) 
Happ’ly does my tale dance its final steps
But this: St. Teresa’s Teacup Tipsy
Grew to know all Lyla’s, Lacey’s, Latia’s
Fondest dreams, with the added luster of
Reginald’s new-found strength and ideals
Spoken out, shared with a world long grown dark,
Now new-lit with new-found inspiration.
St. Teresa’s Teacup Tipsy again
Vibrant center of life and love to a
Bustling and grateful neighborhood.
Dispenser of delightful teas and talk
St. Teresa's Teacup Tipsy, shattered
Once, found life anew, bright beacon b’came to
All who have lost, to dare to dream again.
(Fade.) 

The production was mounted in April 2010 by The Driftwood Players.

Photos courtesy of Wendy Enden

My Canvas Blank

Turn, pause, turn, pause, and turn again.
Days in and daze out the wrench rules
My mind's domain.

That, my times past.  This, my new will:
Each morn, I greet a canvas blank
Begging its fill

Of my dreams, fancies, all my thoughts,
Demanding a life of their own
Free in my plots.

Yet, day in, out, all dreams defied
My canvas blank waits, stands, confronts,
Pity denied.

'Tis true, our tyrannies we choose.
And this one was freely embarked.
'Tween wrench and blank
I dare not but
Follow the muse.

© Jeff Stilwell 2012