by Jack Ramey | Mar 1, 2017 | Jack Ramey, Poetry
March, that classical month, sits upon her pillars supported by the plinth of dying winter and yearning towards the moony start of spring. The first of the month that classical month where the fish still swims towards the ram and the longest day of the year awaits the...
by Jack Ramey | Feb 10, 2017 | Art, Jack Ramey, Poetry
. . . . . . . . . Withered willows in the Fall . . . . . . . .. . whither go thy leaves? The layers of oversight have been changed. Bare ruined choirs stain the landscape dripping with rain in late November. The 21st century limited exists in tandem with...
by Jack Ramey | Jan 12, 2017 | Jack Ramey, plato, Poetry
Look at the light beams pouring down from the sun:– slicing through morning fog and mist like a million surgeons’ carefully sharpened knives in a medieval cathedral of medicine, where patients wait patiently, supine on the mossy floor of love in the nave of, in...
by Jack Ramey | Jan 6, 2017 | Jack Ramey, Poetry
The world was made of black and white. Carnivore description bears their names written on the launching pad: David Ghost, Astronaut. Nathan Faltoon, pilot. Zackadu Monguenski, bombardier. They knew what they had to do and they did it all for the red, white, and blue...
by Jack Ramey | Nov 15, 2016 | Jack Ramey, Reviews
Richard Riviere at a workshop in Israel. This month is Native American Heritage Month, but unfortunately, the study of Native American history is neglected in most schools. Our students are given a day off to celebrate Columbus, who never stepped foot in North America...
by Jack Ramey | Feb 29, 2016 | Jack Ramey, Poetry
Something white floats on the water Close to the opposite shore: White like floating paint or a ghost Made flesh, hanging there, unmoved by the current. A white plastic bag hangs high in a tree, A vacant soul blown by a swirling wind: Breathing in and breathing out...
