“Everything is holy!†Allen Ginsberg, 1956 Along this reach of the river, snow outlinesempty limbs of the cottonwood,green spruce branchesare weighted by white clumps.Midstream, a few rocks topped by snowbreak the moving sheet of water.From the current’s edge west to the foresta meadow extends pure white. What is the purpose of a universethat contains such […]
Filed under: RE:ACT Art & Community Together - Calgary Poetry Project, Tom Wayman by akublik Date 15 December, 2015
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1. In residential districts, the laurel is grown high and trimmed to a dense hedge delineating this-is-mine, while insisting the-street-must-not-see- what-I-have: the laurel celebrates a separation from one’s fellow citizens. And these flimsiest of laurels you seek are surely a dim shadow of celebrity: the worship of vacuous shape-shifters, human beings manipulated, Photoshopped by paid […]
Filed under: Fridays on Blue Skies, Poems by, Tom Wayman by editor Date 26 April, 2013
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A slagheap of dollars with portions hidden behind facades designed by famous international architects down on their luck –an immense tailings mound of money toward which fleets of tanker trucks sloshed full of additional cash stream to disgorge Two inches of fresh snow overnight at mid-May A buffalo standing, head lowered, defeated as though formed […]
Filed under: Poems by, RE:ACT Art & Community Together - Calgary Poetry Project, Tom Wayman by editor Date 5 December, 2012
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“Despite the best efforts of politicians and corporate officials, we are drawn to the splendour of the authentic, the awe and wonder that – as the naturalist R.W. Sandford has noted – no television screen or other commercial artifice can truly provide. The brutality of war, and the odiousness of policies and products that isolate […]
Filed under: Poems by, Tom Wayman by editor Date 1 July, 2012
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after Miguel Hernandez “The personalities of so many of us are at war within, as a consequence of trying to make sense of childhood, adolescence, adulthood even while we’re in the midst of these experiences. You’d think that such endless internal combat would satisfy whatever primal urges we retain to do battle externally with people […]
Filed under: Poems by, Tom Wayman by editor Date 30 June, 2012
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