I was born in the late 1940s which makes me one of the BABY-BOOMERS. But we could also have been called PEACE-BABIES, because that's why so many of our parents wanted
to start families - a horrendous war had ended in total victory and the Great Depression had been replaced by the New Prosperity. My parents, from lower middle backgrounds, benefited from this prosperity and were truly grateful ... more »
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Daniel Brick Poems
After the Poet's Death
His poems refuse to mourn his passing, they detach themselves from books, magazines, wall hangings
A Degree of Intensity
When a thing appears as a degree of intensity, we have nothing else than the existence of the thing in a world. Alain Badiou Contemporary philosopher
Walking Through Autumn
September Powerlines along my path bristled with electric fire, scorching
Monica spoke in her familiar soft voice, each word carrying its weight of sincerity. 'Daniel, I am, and always will be your Anima,
Four Taoist Poems
I Scattered rocks lie beneath the moss-covered boulder.
The Other Daniel
He has better luck with women. He doesn't obsess over them, walks next to them with an easy gait, much like his unforced conversation. His smile is spontaneous,
The Abandoned Poem
I wrote a long poem for you this morning in the pure light of an untouched day.
The Amateur Poet Drives to his First Poe...
What did he feel when he sat down in his car? He felt a slight hunger and a large thirst. He felt his mind already speeding through ordinary air. He felt his body grow twice its size, and his heart slip from his breast on a thin ribbon of blood.
The Occasional Traveler
This is a poem of male roads. It starts with an ordinary road made up of daily traffic plus the occasional traveler impulsively joining
Snowfall in the Night for Fabrizio Fros...
The snow had just begun to fall, thick snowflakes falling past the restaurant window, when you whispered, leaning forward,
Half-Turned Pages A Love Poem
That autumn every time I looked out the window I saw two leaves fall from a maple tree in my yard. Always two leaves fell together
Heaven and Earth A Sonnet
Head bowed, hands folded, you stand at the edge of the only heaven to suffice, waiting for a small miracle to occur. Behind us steadfast petitioners pray.
Moving into the House Late Winter,1985
Day heaves darkness out of sight. The trees remaining on this ordinary street seem scattered, haphazard. Disease has claimed so many of them.
Still I Slept
The traffic was loud. Car wheels slapped the pavement like wrestlers hitting the mat. Still I slept.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
After the Poet's Death
His poems refuse
to mourn his passing, they
detach themselves from
books, magazines, wall hangings
and float freely
in the fair summer air.
Their refusal to mourn is
steadfast. 'He's just changed
his address, ' one of his
first poems says to the new
lyrics. 'He's done this before,
searching for a better place to live.'
'And we always go with him, '
pipes a small poem, barely
audible, maybe not
completed, hardly a poem
at all. 'We are all of us
pieces of his soul, ' booms
the lordly Epic Poem
of 24 cantos. 'We must