All my life, I’ve been a chickenshit. I’m neither proud of it nor dismayed by it. It is simply a fact. I have always wanted…
Man of the heart, non-ideological
Anthony Signorelli - The Sailing Poet Posts
Survival Is Not a Solution, But It Beats Dying If we have learned anything from the recent hurricanes, Helene and Milton, it is perhaps that…
Do you think when the red cardinalattacks the mirroring windowit could be because of some great loss?They say he thinks he is attacking another maleto…
Among the cacopohonyone voice emerges.There have been so many…A sick wife,a sexy girlfriend,a dead mother’s echo.And there’s beenmy thundering fatherdemanding successor bankruptcy.I’m the chameleonwithout a…
Although I often wish that sailing could be an escape into a purity of sublime joy, the experience is more often a window into human…
I’m about to enter a tunnel.It’s long. It’s dark.It goes down… A few friendsstand with me.They won’t go with;this is my journey.But each has placeda…
1As he tills the soil, a holeopens. Blocks of concretehave fallen in the collapsed tomb.On the bottom, a skeleton,and he instantly knows: It is her.Nothing…
When I pause and clear the clutteredimages; when the noise passes away;I see through it all,and the numinous youshines through, a golden liteshimmers around your…
Every relational househas a pantry of plenty.It is filled with potential —conversations not yet had,places not yet visited,experiences requiring couragethat could take you to the…
There are times in lifewhen you make an error.Old wounds drive bad choices.The wounds rise up from the swamp-bottom;a giant hairy arm — the wound…