Author Archives: Dale Hobson

I’ve written about my poetry “junk drawer” before, how it is sometimes possible to weld pieces together into something good (or good enough, anyway). But no matter how often those unlikely mashups occur, the junk drawer seems to stay as … Continue reading →

There is a cruel streak in American culture that recognizes the utility of keeping people insecure, that wields power by making sure that the bottom is as far down as possible, and that there is no sure way to avoid … Continue reading →

In catalogs, we find the garden raised up to the Platonic Ideal. I could no doubt achieve such a work of wonder, had I unlimited funds and if didn’t waste my time writing or sleeping, cooking, cleaning, reading, etc. Or … Continue reading →

Flying is often a misery these days: huge, unnavigable terminals, long waits, flights jammed with the annoying and the malodorous. But flying home from Boston this week was pretty sweet. Ten folks in a little turboprop, flying home to a … Continue reading →

This past summer was the first in a long time where I spent a lot of time out in the fresh air, raising a sweat and putting things in shape. I really wanted to reach the river, having been cut … Continue reading →

I don’t often sweat the big picture. I’m more focused on the small and nearby. But some nights I don’t sleep well and then night thoughts connect the dots for me and I hear the voice of Afrofuturist poet and … Continue reading →

Having a Buddhist practice can be a challenge for people who have been raised in the dualistic philosophies of Western culture. If I had one wish… Dualism The Buddha in the bucketof my brain knowsthe Four Noble Truthsand the Eightfold … Continue reading →

You know how it is when you are going along a road you drive every day and you top a rise just as late golden light floods the long valley ahead. Sometimes a glamor is cast over the ordinary world, … Continue reading →

I profess to not be a fan of winter, dreading its coming all fall. But I forget its allure, its beguiling purity and clarity until one morning it suddenly transforms everything. Epiphany Snow The first real snow falls on Epiphany, … Continue reading →