I'm Back

Sorry folks. I've been away for a while - but I'm back. Some good news. Pudding House Press has asked to publish my second chapbook. It is titiled Rather, It Should Shine. It should be releasesd later this year. I'll keep everyone posted. Best wishes to all.

First Real Snow

Northern New Jersey is draped with a thin, fresh icing of snow. This snow inspired my pen. Hope you enjoy. Thanks.

In Stone Ovens by S. Thomas Summers

This morning it’s the pine
unfurling its shadow across
backyard snow - a dark path
reaching for distant wood
where giants and ogres bake
bread floured with the bones
of my fathers, bread spread
with the sweet jam
of old stories and songs.

I shall make tea, warm the glade
with its steam, let these monsters
bounce me on their knees -
how much I remind them
of all that’s been lost.

Poem Published in Science Creative Quarterly

My poem Roadside is up at Science Creative Quarterly. Here's a link. Check it out.

http://www.scq.ubc.ca/?p=651

Poetry Thursday Exercise - Why I Love Poetry

Why do I love poetry - it introduced me to me!!!!!

In case you need me by S. Thomas Summers

God, here I am –
in the shaded corner
of my yard, scraping

off the moss that clings
to the tool shed. For a moment,
I’ll rest beneath this old

birch. It reminds me of grandpa –
how it arches over
the house, the way he leaned

over my bed when I
was a tired child, told
me his stories: circus

elephants and toeless
monkeys – taught
me how to find you.

Saturday Morning Cartoons

My son is well planted in his bean bag chair spending some time with his Saturday morning friends - Saturday morning cartoons. I thought I'd honor a few of my Saturday morning pals - friends who helped spark my imagination and form my love of art and poetry. Thanks guys!!!!

The March

I've been reading The March by E.L. Doctorow. It's a fictional account of Gen. Sherman's march to the sea during the later half of the Civil War. I highly recoomend it - an excellent read. It's rekindled my interest in the Civil War. I'm writing about it again. (ironic if you read my last post.) Read The March and the poem I've posted below. Thanks all.


Blue Suit by S. Thomas Summers

First time I got myself shot,
lead stripped clean off
one of my gold buttons -
took a slick of skin too,
but that was no matter.

Without that button I felt
like an angel without a halo.

Lord done took away my glow,
I told the colonel, but he said
I didn’t need no button to aim
a gun and kill a few Rebs
so I learned to carry on without it.

Next time I got shot, my arm
shattered like an icicle smackin’
frozen earth. Doc had to cut it off -

hell I even watched some son-a-bitch
bury it. Can’t scratch my ass
proper no more; I liked
scratchin’ with my trigger arm.

Damn straight I’d give up all my buttons
to get that arm back - my ass
just ain’t as happy as it was `fore
they gave me this blue suit.

A Fool Such As I

I am captivated by the sights, sounds, smells, pain, and blood of the Civil War. Often, I write about it. Yet, the Civil War is just an interest. It’s not who I am. I am Laura’s husband, Reanna’s father, and Garrett’s father. Therefore, I often, very often, write about my home and the universe that swells from it. That universe is my joy. Recently, I’ve been encouraged to stop writing about "sensitive-dad/husband observing the domestic wonders of suburbia" stuff and focus more on the grit and grime of the Civil War. Although I believe my Civil War material is good, my muse remains my family and home. Quite honestly, I was rather offended. Perhaps I’m just being foolish - then foolish I shall be.