The Visitation published in Convergence, Winter 2006: www.convergence-journal.com/winter06/poetry_the_visitation.html
Chimera published in Convergence, Summer 2004: www.convergence-journal.com/summer04/poetry_chimera.htm
The Golden Germ published in Convergence, Summer 2004: www.convergence-journal.com/summer04/poetry_golden_germ.htm
At The Entrance To The Santa Cruz Wharf can be found at: www.mipoesias.com/Volume19Issue2/cervine.html
Dane's poem Purpose appears on-line in the Spring 2006 edition Monterey Bay's Bathyspheric Review: http://www.montereybaypoetry.com/cervine.html
This journal celebrates writing that is connected to ocean themes, to water, to all things connected with the sea...check it out!
The following two poems were published in Branches Quarterly:
Omens: www.branchesquarterly.com/2.2/CervineBennett.htm
A Birthday Reverie: www.branchesquarterly.com/2.1/Cervine.Lyon.htm
This poem appeared in the Red River Review:
HONEY: www.redriverreview.com/A55656/RRR.nsf/0/36760dcc236312eb862568d0001f72c9?OpenDocument
My poem ENGINE appeared in the November 2005 edition of Sy Safransky's THE SUN:
www.thesunmagazine.org/november2005.html
Here's the text of the poem:
Engine
The Los Gatos parking lot is filled with Lexus,
PT Cruisers, & Hummers. Housewives angular & tan
stream by, eyelids creamed & lined, optimistic breasts
nonchalantly pointing straight ahead, past the men
striding confidently with their cell phones
plugged to ears as though listening to somebody’s gospel,
or mutual funds rising, or another country falling.
Emerging, then disappearing again inside sleek metal
& fiberglass cocoons, pistons fire in each cylinder of heart,
spinning the world’s crankshaft, powering this endless rotation
through the void. There is always
someplace to go, something new to want.
And the young single women slide by so unencumbered,
radiant, untested by weddings, births, the thought of death—
engines humming beneath hips, cache of eggs to spill or grow.
How the young men revel, penises purring under red hoods,
bent on roaring down the road. Or the aging beauty in pink pants,
blue star shimmering on the curve of each bouncing cheek—
doesn’t someone love her like a secret, like the only one
worth having? Sometimes
there’s just too much speed, something in you careening,
looking for more, always more, cylinders of the heart
wanting to slow, to meander past these opulent hills
into the great brown fields of the San Joaquin—
so much space you almost feel lonely for the small
huddled towns, could almost start again—odometer
counting down the years, the ones that are left,
numerals fluttering languidly towards zero.
My poem What The Rain Brings, Leaves was published in Facets Magazine and can be viewed at:
One of my favorite small press journals is Porcupine, published by Buz and Vicki Reed in Wisconsin. Three of my poems appeared in the volume linked below:
http://www.porcupineliteraryarts.com/vol8-2.html
The first poem, What Infinity Can Never Bring, was also chosen by Dennis Morton for broadside publication and dissemination during National Poetry Month at our wonderful independent bookstore Bookshop Santa Cruz:
What Infinity Can Never Bring
I love the old men gathering at Beckman's Bakery,
the hobble in the step of one, the sad eyes of another---
the joy of company that brings them together over coffee,
bagels, regrets. Even now, their conversation still lingers
on children, grown, scattered: my daughter's an alcoholic,
says one, mine's unemployed says another. But then,
in the next breath they are on to other loves,
simple passions---as only the old can do,
eyes ablaze with finitude's fire.
Buddha Hanger
A rusted hanger abandoned,
melting into black asphalt under rain.
Beauty only the holy can see, and for a long moment
I do---the oxidizing metal turning orange as a sun
lighting the horizon, a last goodbye.
Having held a warm coat, someone's favorite shirt---
or perhaps anonymous in a warehouse,
bearing a dress identical to thousands nearby,
waiting to be loaded, to find a home.
What more could anyone desire---
to be of such practical use,
to bear the beauty of others,
and when forgotten, to lie in the rain
content, letting go.
Would You Recognize the Truth if You Saw It
A small boy with blue glasses
pokes his head round the corner of the black metal newspaper stand,
stares. I crack the smallest of smiles, enough to send him
giggling for cover---till he reappears inside the empty black cage,
pokes his head through, stares at me again. This time,
I look him full in the face, radiate what gave us birth
those eons ago, this ecstatic recognition of being,
the surprise of it all. Gazing back through oval lenses,
never blinking, he radiates back---as though it was still,
all of it, just beginning---that there was endless time
to love your life this much.
A new poem of mine entitled The Magic Trick appears in the on-line journal CONTE. Take a look at the following link: http://www.conteonline.net/issue0203/p01.shtml
Poets Against War continues the tradition of socially engaged poetry, and is a website that many poets have submitted poems to. The link below leads to the following poems: What We Have To Offer; What We Cannot See; Peace March; and All Hallows Eve. The line breaks didn't always work right on the web page, so please forgive...consider submitting your own poems if you haven't yet.
http://www.poetsagainstthewar.org/displaypoem.asp?AuthorID=354
