Resa’s Glam Reviews
Delightful? A few poems are. Poignant they all remain, & dog me.
With his one-of-a-kind poetry style, Dean trains his unique eye on theend of theworld, or of humankind,death,thedestiny of humanity,theSecondComing &Judgment.
There is no escape like reading! What about reading about what one may never escape from? Dean’s words took me into that darkening day. He used the color of meaning to paint the way.
Yet, I never felt like running from it. I wanted to remain, to hear what the poet, writer, musician had to say about the decay, and mores.
Dean’s words string true, even if they bite you. Might as well face the music he presents, it feels healthy.
Dog is God backwards, but I have a feeling Dean knew this when tempting us with his title.
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Lauren Scott- “Finding a Balance”
I am embarking on a new adventure and this is an introduction. My second poetry book, “Finding a Balance” is almost ready for publication and it’s nice to not be such a novice the second time around. This book isn’t just about sharing more poems I have written. It’s not only about me. It holds a deeper meaning; the new adventure part. The proceeds will be donated to an organization for a purpose close to my heart and my family’s. I’ll begin, though, with a back story…
After three years of abdominal pain and ongoing tests, on October 4, 2012, our daughter, Stephanie, was diagnosed with Primary Schlerosing Cholangitis (PSC). She was 21 years old. Her doctor was the head of the Gastroenterology department and was extremely competent. He didn’t beat around the bush. He told us this wasn’t good. Below is a brief description:
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#Poetry #Readers #Books
I so love this-
One of my wonderful followers on Simple Pleasures
Sharing Dean K Miller- book link :-)
The first shipment has arrived!
Here is the link to purchase your copy:
or visit Amazon.com in a day or two. Ebook for all readers coming soon!
The journey has just begun, and I am smiling.
Excellent Reading- Hawk Chronicles by Charles Martin
it’s a darkness—
but I say the light
is a little better
and little softer
as it comes in filtered
through the gauzy pinprick
of an alcoholic beverage—
when your focus is a red laser
that keeps skipping around—
which is the reason
you can’t drive – because
there’s only the steering wheel,
or only the gas,
or only the touchy brakes—
and you can’t possibly
work them all at the same time
when your eyes
just want to close
and feel the fluffy air
spinning around you
like pink cotton candy
at the state fair – so soft
that all you want to do
is write another poem
about love –
which is so often
just another word
Here we go again Lol
How inappropriate. How cruel. How calculatedly discouraging. Thoughts of Cousin Harold, considering what had occurred earlier that evening.
Harold had set himself up as an entrepreneur. Miss Crankypants was going on the road. Well not the road, but the sidewalks. Harold had read that seniors everywhere were engaging in prostitution in order to make ends meet, and he immediately thought of Cranky and her particular assets.
Imagine, he thought, people paying Cranky $11 – an entire $11 – each time. That was the lowest he’d read about some seniors getting paid, although those were
9 irons foreigners so he figured the difference might just be huge.
Cranky at first objected to turning pleasure into pay, but Harold had triumphed. He said, ’You always hear that the most successful people do what they love and then the rest follows,’ with Cranky’s repartee being,
’yeh, the cops, diseases….’ and Harold answering back…
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The Mythologies Of Love Review by Resa
How dreamy, I thought, Dean wrote a book of love poems!
“Love”, it’s so beautiful…
..Well, yes! However, perhaps not exactly as I had envisioned.
Nonetheless, passion is very evident in these poems. It’s especially noted when I feel distance from the sexuality of love, but want to feel close to it.
Dean doesn’t squander the “love ” word. Yet, I feel puppy dog love eyes.
Dean is the dark horse running with lighter, brighter angels. His view, as always, remains true to his perceptions.
Sometimes I understood I was reading in a special language. “Evol Fo Seigolohtem”
I have a fave poem in this book. “Poem For Ann Marie” & I must mention my second fave “The Market Place”. I won’t tell you why because I really think you should just read them…
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But your eyes
Sleight of hand
You a player
With a pocket
Full of hearts
A romantic magician
With a 52 card deck
Full of trick plays
And when you called
For my final bet
I went all in
You turned my heart
Into a spade