Poetry & Music at The Wild Hog In The Woods

You Are Invited!

 Live Poetry & Music 

At the Wil-Mar Center 

The Wild Hog in the Woods Coffee Shop

Friday November 8,  7:30 to 9:30 pm

504 S. Brearly St. Madison, Wi 53703  

        Friends Romans and Country persons ... I've not come to bury Caesar for he died long before my time. Although my name is Anthony I had nothing to do with that event. Instead have been invited to read some of my poetry by Dave Schindele, a fine musician and friend. I will be reading an excerpt from a collection of poetry I recently submitted to a contest for possible publication. The title of the collection is Black Ink On White Paper . Below is the title poem and a bit of a long poem titled Song of the Frivolous Man.  For all of you who are local and can make it I would love to see there. 

Black Ink

On White Paper

Black ink

On 

White paper,

Words

Upon a

Page;

Out of

Diapers,

I toddle

Across

The floor,

Open

 The door 

To school…,

Learn letters

 Put together

Mean

 Something; 

Black ink

On 

White paper,

The first word

“A”

An article

Of faith,

Leads to

Another

And 

Another,

Cascades

Into a 

Daisy chain,

Until

A spark

Flashes,

Something

 Ignites,

The candle’s

 Lit,

A wind gust

Fans embers,

The campfire

Catches flame,

The hearth

Blazes

To life;

Something’s

 Kindled,

Suddenly

I stand,

Know now

I am

A poem,

Open my

Mouth,

Begin to

Sing;

Song of The Frivolous Man

A dying man,

No longer 

In a hurry,

I stretch 

Every second

To a minute,

Every minute

 To an hour,

Every hour

 To a day,

Every day 

To a month,

Every month

 To a year,

Every year 

Into

 A lifetime;

A frivolous man,

This song

 I sing 

For you;

The world’s 

A perfect waste,

An anarchy 

To

Be born 

Only

 To

Pass away;

Slow walking 

Among trees,

Through tangles

Of

Green briars,

Around saplings,

Overstepping

Rotten logs

And

Dropped

Limbs,

Leaves fallen,

Lie each

 On the other, 

Like Blue 

And Gray

Bodies

At Gettysburg,

Cradled in craters

Between trenches

In no man’s land

On the 

Western front,

Out of 

Gas chambers

Stacked 

Like 

Cord wood,

Waiting

 Crematoriums, 

At Dachau,

 Buchenwald,

Treblinka;

I stoop 

Pick up

A leaf

Fallen

From

A small beech,

Yellow and copper

With liver 

Colored spots,

Like those

Soon

 To appear 

On the back 

Of my hand,

An elegant 

Elliptic

With tail 

And

 Point;

The stem 

Begins

 The midvein

Runs the middle

 To  dwindle 

At the

Pointed end

Where 

Air begins;

Veins

Themselves

An unfleshed

 Frame,

Hold

Photo

Synthetic

 Skin,

To capture 

Energy, 

Grows 

Earth

 Bound roots,

Raises high

A light

 Basking 

Canopy,

Always

Rots

 First;

Have I told you

Lately,

That I love you,

Truly I do; 

          This poem is long and continues. My reading will be about 15 minutes when it will be scheduled

unknown at this time. Look forward to seeing all of you that can make it. Ps: I'd like to have a video of

my reading for any of you inclined to help out that way. Thanks for joining me in this adventure called life.

Anthony G. Hendricks, author, poet, nature lover -- naturally;  Buddha Blues, recently published with a great cover created by his Sister Judith; available at Amazon as print on demand or as an e book at Amazon or Kobo. With formatting help on cover and interior by Woven Red. Other books The Wasteland Revisited, a book length poem about the dystopia causing global warming; available as an e book at Amazon; A Journey In The Human Dilemma, collected poetry and prose; trade paper back.