Archive for the ‘Bryce Milligan’ Tag

Remembering Hurricane Ike Nine Years Out   Leave a comment

Hurrican Ike Gulf CoastGalveston Beach Front Devastation (September 13, 2008) –Source:

Water’s Rising

water’s rising, and you who were caught
in last year’s flood, you are ready to scramble
onto the roof of the car and scream

but on this lonely backstreet, with a good
meal still warm in my belly and the wine
still sweet in my mouth, there are no lights

there is no cell phone, no traffic
no friendly strangers out for a stroll —
there is only the dark, and the current

— Bryce Milligan

IkeLake Woodlands Drive, The Woodlands, Texas (September 13, 2008)

James and grandma-3695-blogBorn in the Eye of the Storm

A storm in the Gulf
Satellite views as big as Texas
On track for Galveston
Strong winds of medium strength
Pushing a wall of seawater

People boarding up windows
Placing valuables in cars
Preparing to run from the storm
Others preparing to shelter-in-place,
Hoping the storm will turn away

Outer bands begin coming ashore
Bringing water from the sky and the Gulf
Providing a taste of things to come
As cars head north, one is headed south
With baby to be born

Arriving at the Medical Center
The delivery process begins
Outside the winds gain strength
Choreographed with mother’s labor
Moving toward a crescendo of life

 Suddenly, there is peace and calm
As a baby is born in the eye of the storm
A prince of strength – symbol of the storm
A prince of peace – symbol of the eye
Forever in the eye of the storm.

kenne (Written for James, September 9, 2009)

Monuments, For Good Or Bad   Leave a comment

Jefferson Davis Highway Monument blogImage by kenne taken at an I-10 rest area in New Mexico (September 8, 2017)

For good or bad . . .

the things that remain
to remind us of what we were
before we were without that
which prompts us to remember”

— from Monuments by Bryce Milligan

Let the Woods Crowd Out   Leave a comment

Shadows in the Woods-8386 blog TextImage by kenne

Lost and certain of it, the woods crowd in
allowing only glimpses of the track
that was so clear and broad and well traveled

only moments back where the sun fell bright
between the leaves to dapple the mast, but
lost and certain of it, the woods crowd in

spinning the senses like leaves in a wind
risen from the past to obscure the path
that was so clear and broad and well traveled.

— from “Lost and certain of it” by Bryce Milligan

Not so the evening primroses . . .   2 comments

Kickback Rock 07-30-12Cutleaf Evening Primrose — Image by kenne

by Wendy Barker

Light splotches on the bed,
mesmerizing the morning.
Why rise from this dazzle?

But outside the kitchen door,
the first time in years, flickering
in the pittosporum’s froth, a dozen

dozen Monarch butterflies ignite
the green, their white freckled patches
shifting, rapid as a blink, and gone.

Not so the evening primroses
that open as the light is leaving
and remains even as the moon lifts

from the trees, even as you sit
steady above your book, until
you rise, and bring me your hands.

(Windy Barker is a poet and critic, and teaches literature at the University of Texas at San Antonio. Windy has been involved in several “Writer’s In Performance” events over the years.)

Capturing the Word — Bryce Milligan   Leave a comment

Bryce Milligan at Writers In Performance Series — Image by kenne

Desert mid-summer weather can provide many extremes
causing life to struggle to survive
in a relentless sun to strong winds,
heavy rains and dramatic lightning lined skies.
Since moving to the desert,
this blog has posted images of menacing skies,
with more to come, I’m sure.

Additionally, I have been writing notes
for future poems on the desert.
However, in lieu of my own poem
and as part of my “Capturing the Word” series,
I was recently reading Bryce Milligan’s book of poems,
LOST and certain of it
(a several times Writers in Performance presenter),
and read his desert poem, “Lightning.”


The days that lack that flash:
heat on the horizon,
thunderheads painted bright
with the promise of rain

to wash the desert dust
from needle and flower,
yielding up red and yellow
explosions on each cactus’ tower.

The days that lack that flash
bring me careening back
to your eyes that I cannot
tell from lightning.

— Bryce Milligan

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