small girls dream awhile

the most are slipped graces

and many graces are slipped,

Yes. There would come a rope


or a lady who takes heartbreaks

or a lady who saddles ill-lucks


all storms since you, have given in


I have been operating from nothing,

without no thing in hand, but these.


As a shelving of moving moss,

I am ever on the lookout for

a gorgeous sentence gone


any gorgeous thing


no glancing


mine is not one common.


©Umansky 2014


Tyrion Says   ( inspired by Game of Thrones)


I wish I was the monster you all thought I was,

Tyrion says,

and I think, how we all return to our places.

you can see the gods clutch,  as he waits for a low sky,

for a cornered hope

            ….I’ve been on trial my whole life, he says…

and nails the iron tip on the tooth


I think: Jury,  is a slug more slant for its slurp?

The earthworm, less for having more?


A sleeping evil, though dumb on night, is still an evil,

but Tyrion is no heathen, though he is slight.


He says, I wish I had killed him

but even the dark has its blossoms,

and his are green-tipped and tart


This is the law of the land, my friend,

of fathers,

of men

of words


The saw cuts right though an ugly thing

blood is ugly but pure

blood lets

blood congeals

blood reveals

[doesn’t it?]


I saved you all from a monster, he says,


[and he did, but that’s another matter]


Tyrion is another kind of monster,

a kinder monster.


This one is sore-footed;

this one is lion-hearted;

this one is high-watered in good.


I want to say, this will soon be a time long ago,

so, play on,





© Umansky2014


Kevin Thomas, of HORN! Reviews, was kind enough to illustrate some of my Mad Men poems from my #madmen inspired poetry collection, DON DREAMS AND I DREAM. The poems are, “The Times,” and “In My Next Life, I Want To Be An Ad Man.” (Thank you, Kevin).


all my days at the open dark

stand in an always

so often as I am, as I be, as I will

above the grit of good and arriving,             




dark has no face and              dark runs from the moon


but wolves in the teeth of night,


                         & the clank and gong.


Sit, here.

hover                   utter                              still


a sourcing                   a re-affirming             a waited rush of the found


            a  vein,  like a star’s blue,


or violet,  

                        or navied in vain.

© Umansky 2014

  1. I have a new website, check it out, here and sign up for the newsletter.

  2. Three of my Game of Thrones poems have been published in the January issue of  Poetry Magazine.  Read them here.


Oh Don…

Oh Don...

Thanks to AMC for this fun app. I cannot wait for Mad Men.


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