Having an obsession for the nuances hidden in a word, Iíve discovered
that every utterance, whether written or spoken, prompts a different
perspective in the mind of the reader or listener. Every word initiates
from this variety of perceptions, emotions and experiences. Thatís what
gives the poet, the lyricist, the freedom to soar, free of the rules and
admonitions of prose. Metaphor suddenly evolves into the absolute.
Fantasy becomes fact, and dreams become reachable goals.
Simple lines of strung-together words began tumbling out of me on lined
yellow paper as soon as I was able to draw clumsy, rather lopsided
letters, probably the age of four or so. For nigh over sixty years now
Iíve been dribbling my soul onto a page. The voice of the soul, thatís
The mind steps back and the inner force of you begins to sing its songs.
Songs of joy, love, gaiety, even silly fun. Perhaps rage! Perhaps fear,
confusion, hurt, agony, even the ebony of despair. For me, no other
writing genre affords more complete expression than poetry. Often in a
few, but powerful words, or a stark presentation, the poetís life
experiences, philosophies and perceptions emerge in verse. Memories
stored for decades, or hopes for that yet coming, sing out with the
effect of a symphony, the torrent of a compelling solo. Or simply . . .