is no feeling
the feeling you get when you wake up at four in the
know you are the only one alive
could almost be dead yourself and not know it.
start to think with a clarity that has alluded you your
to hold you back
suddenly you want to build
after brick those words that speak out from the
stories that no one will ever hear
they shout out of the silence like alarm bells warn the
sailors of the rocks that lurk underneath.
you piece them together
you know you are making something you don't know or need to
know what it is you only find out when you finish
you can stand back and see what it is
if you knew before you started
you look and know and see what it is
for once you know what it is
is an old man that occasionally manages
to knock out a good poem or two.
Terry Butler lives in the country, near a small town
south of San Jose, CA called Hollister. He used to write steadily, publishing both in print
and online as Terence Butler, but after some health issues, the energy needed to write
seemed to dissipate somewhat. He has been a professional photographer and a
painter/collage-assemblage maker for most of his working life, so painting and
photo art have taken the place of genre fiction as an outlet. Recently the
story “Fire Man” appeared all as a piece in his mind so he simply wrote it
down. He sent it to Cindy, and in the ensuing back and forth. They somehow
discussed using some of his visual art, too. Cindy is simply the best, and a real stalwart
little world. She has a big heart and a deep
love for animals, too!