Monday 5 May 2014

1 Poem by Rick Hartwell


I squint my eyes to read the lines of others’ poems,
discerning themes and truths from scud and spume,
navigating toward a sense of loss or self submerged.

From some I find only flotsam and drifted woodenness,
not building materials from which to construct a dream;
reveries from others: tumultuous rapids or quiescent pools.

Whiling on, my peripheral mind’s-eye seizes a fleeting
sea sprite of metaphorical meaning lifting the veiling of
prosaic fog, enhancing the base with oceanic splendor.


Rick Hartwell is a retired middle school (remember the hormonally-challenged?) English teacher living in Moreno Valley, California. He believes in the succinct, that the small becomes large; and, like the Transcendentalists and William Blake, that the instant contains eternity. Given his “druthers,” if he’s not writing, Rick would rather be still tailing plywood in a mill in Oregon.

He has been published in: Empirical Magazine, Newtowner Magazine, Birmingham Arts Magazine, Camel Saloon, Bamboo Forest, Stray Branch, Everyday Fiction, Everyday Poets, Torrid Literature Journal (inducted into the Hall of Fame, 2013), Flashquake, Steam Ticket, Burnt Bridge, Indigo Rising, Toucan Magazine, Lowestoft Chronicle, Thoughtsmith, Rainbow Rose, Greensilk Journal, Shine Journal, Poppy Road Review (selected as Best of the Net, 2011), and others, both in print and e-zine.

Rick is listed in Poets & Writers for Fiction, Literary Non-fiction and Poetry. Published chapbooks: The Sea Turtle (Fiction, The Bactrian Room,, and Kindle Books); This Way to the Egress (Poetry, Books on Blog #24,; and, Vietnam Flashbacks: A Personal Memoir (Literary Non-Fiction, Burnt Bridge: Those Who Served, D-Day Issue,, and Kindle Books).

He can be reached at

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