WATERMARK

a poet’s notebook

Established 02004

moss

September 3, 2006

Welcome NewWest Readers

NewWest featured one of my favorite images today: Go here to see the set, and the explanation. I have more NewWest news, but that’s for a post next week. Continue reading

Photos 2006

car bumper, moss, NewWest.net, photo, photograph
December 28, 2005

Interesting Photos

[Where are they? They’re gone.] Shelley and qB have both posted Flickr’s picks for their top photos, according to the mysterious interestingness formula. Here are mine: Continue reading

Flickr

cat, daffodil, moss, photograph, squirrel, stained glass, urban art
April 8, 2005

Moss Photoset

I made a Flickr photoset of some macro shots of the moss on my car bumper. Continue reading

Photos 2005

moss, photograph
April 6, 2005

Don’t Get Around Much Anymore . . .

Clicking takes you to the Flickr photo page Yep, that’s my car bumper. In Montana. In drought country. I’m not getting around much on the web, either. But all is fleeting; this will change. Continue reading

Photos 2005

automobile, car, moss, photograph

Ancestral (Artificial )Intelligence

I do not use AI to write. For me, writing is how I think, and I prefer to do it myself. If/when I post anything here that I suspect or know to be AI generated, I will tell you.

I have changed this from Artificial to Ancestral, after Abi Awomosu @ Substack. This medium was made with human history, human thought. All of it, bright and dark. It is ancestral.

Poems

Please do not assume that I am the speaker/ subject of my poems.

In these times of creative nonfiction and fictionalized memoirs, I think of the poem itself as true fiction: it is most likely not factual, but it must be true.

It is likely to be — it is best if it is — a truth I did not know before I wrote, and may not understand even then.

A poem is my way of discovering (dis-covering) what I feel; sometimes, what I think — but it is not necessarily biographical.

moss

Welcome NewWest Readers

Interesting Photos

Moss Photoset

Don’t Get Around Much Anymore . . .