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“I Am Gardener,” by Daniel Holland

I eat, smell, inhale, and cling to the dirt. I am gardener, feel my grit.

“Heartstrings,”–a poem by Daniel Holland

In the early years of my relationship with Daniel--we were together for nine years--we went up North to a weekend Sufi dance camp, invited by a friend. This is in fact, how we met. We met on Valentine's Day in 1998 at Sandra Wade's healing arts studio where Barbara Christwitz led circle dances. Daniel couldn't […]

“Writing Dollars and Sense,” by Daniel Holland

Should I write a story with big words that pays big money? Or, should I write this story that is worth only five cents but makes sense to me?

“Traveling Blister,” by Daniel Holland

When the blister wants to come out, there’s no stopping it. Walk too much--the blister can come out. Use your hands a lot--the blister will come out. “Me, Blister, I will travel.” Sit down a lot and see what happens. The end.

“Snow Story Lies,” by Daniel Holland

I always lie when I tell snow stories. You say you walked to school as a kid in two feet of snow. I say I walked in three feet of snow. Not only that--it was 20 degrees below zero. There were no bathrooms in sight, a lot of people around. I was pee-shy.

“Shadow Griping,” by Daniel Holland

Why do we gripe, comparing shadows? The shadow is past. Why choose to live in a shadow? I want to tan with the richness of sunlight.

“First Words,” by Daniel Holland

If I write about cavemen, do I need to go to a library? Or can I just say the caveman’s first two words? Fire. Wheel.

“Measuring Life,” thoughts by Daniel Holland

How to Measure Life is measured by a watch and a ruler. By the way, what time is it?

“Walking Over Water,” a poem by Daniel Holland

Walking Over Water Stick falls off oak tree in winter’s bare delight. Thin stick over deep water, chilled water. “Courage!” I say to my bare tingly toes.

“Time Bottle,” a poem by Daniel Holland

I put my mind in a time bottle. Watch the particles of brain matter funnel down the sand trap called Time.