Before the finneddinosaurs of the icydepths were disappointed bythe steamships of men, they casttheir ballads into the velvet abyss, waiting as mothers do with untamed hearts, big as school buses George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 […]
nature
The Persistence of Memory
Before the finneddinosaurs of the frozen deepwere interrupted by the warships of man they cast their love balladsinto the vast abyss, waiting,with hearts as wild and big as schoolbuses, for their own answer. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at […]
Listen to the Wild
be wounded with her be empty and homelesswith herbe a light among her trees the turquoise darknessat 3:20 amencounter her be exquisite with herponder her like the longpour of a Guinness at an Irish pub on a slow nighttake a measure of hercrystal beauty her stained-glass beauty awake in her stomachheal with herbend with her have faith in her next breath dare to land with […]
Rise
where there is no religion but God and moon and landand sea and the gathering of otherswho are ready for you to believe. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, essays […]
Stormy Night
There is a loneliness to hail dropson a tin-roofed cabin.The woods and flowers and secrets ofmountains are lonely.So are the trails, ponds, and bridges; the vanished sources looking for a beginning.Dripping drops a million years in the making. Falling asleep in the wounded soil of dreams. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in […]
my favorite cage
is made of porcelain white bars, surroundedby ringlets of fire, red hot and orangeas daisies consumed bythe summer sun. Those cornerless bars, alive and fierceas fractals, daring me to eclipse my freedom. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. […]
Boulder, Colorado
Is the wry grin an old hippy makeswhen hiding a handfulof magic mushrooms. Or the way strangers feel innocentand accomplished at the summit. Nowhere but down to go from there. Sucking the jeweled teeth of the Flatirons like kids. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary […]
How to Treat Water
Store in a copper basin with tulips or rose petals, under a salt lamp. Pray over and be kind to it. Play Mozart andChopin for it.Let it know youas a friend, and always, alwayssay thank you. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John […]
Encounter on the Moose River
Startled by steps –that New Balancebounce – loud asBoeing jets glidingthrough the metallicclouds of a perfectaloneness, a blueheron hides betweentwo teal wings, foldingand glittering, holdingits eyelids near theflowing stillness of ariver, bare and abundant. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry […]
Bio-graph
The mind is rustlingclothes, sound shadowsand deadening echoes. The feel of her proximityand the wall when a blindman is walking too close. Like black panthers, all of usfind our way by vibrations, when the night gets too dark.And in the morning, the mind isa patch of parsley green moss onthe white flesh of birch trees. The ones my daughter […]