- Homepage
-
My Blank Canvas
In elementary school I was handed a blank canvas,some brushes and paint.Our teacher said, “paint something you learned”I decided to paint a Navajo dwellingsomewhere in the desert untouched by written history. In one hand I held a paletteblending the colors of a night sky.A memory sparked and inspiration ignitedwhat flowed through my heartflowed from my…
-
The Murmuration of Poets
The murmuration of poetsis God’s pupil.The depth of knowledgeinfinite.In the darkness’ abyss we existonly to find ourselvesin God’s light.
-
The Thirsty Horse
I led a thirsty horse to an empty troughin a town without a name. Wrapped the horse’s lead around a wooden polethen stepped into the saloon.Cobwebs and poker chips littered the room.Overturned chairs and a broken piano left nothing for the imagination. Just another abandoned town with no story to tell. I step behind the bar.Old shelves…
-
In My Soul
In my youthwe dictatedto the worldour termsand conditions. we were unwaveringin our principlesand dedicatedto our cause.relentlessnesswas our rallying call. we taught our leadersnever to be dismissivefor the ideathat we were childrenwas a foolish notion. at night I wonderwhere do the youths of today stand?for age falters my mindand darkness fills my soul. Author Michael PlanteLast…
-
The Glass Ceiling
You have to have the attitude of a brickin order to bring down the glass ceiling above you.The strength of a madmanand the willingness to fail. How easy it is to point out the failures of yesterday,and how difficult it is to admit our own failures upon inheriting our parent’s success.There is no perfect flower…
The Poet's House 