Lee Herrick has lived in Danville, Modesto and Turlock, and currently lives in Fresno, California. He completed his M.A. in English at CSU Stanislaus. His poetry deals with themes of identity, race, loss, and love.
Mr. Herrick has taught Literature and Language Arts at Modesto Junior College, and now teaches writing full-time at Fresno City College. He is the founder and editor of "In the Grove", a new literary journal featuring the short fiction, essays, and poetry of California writers. Lee Herrick's poetry has been published in The Poets' Edge, South Ash Press, Penumbra, and dIS*orient. Lee Herrick is currently working on a book of poetry, "Coping With Vertigo."
E-mail to Lee Herrick at leeherrick@hotmail.com
I fall along you
Let us go to a place
You can smile at me
The lights dim and suddenly I am here.
I can see the movie there
I looked up at a simple grey,
All text and images in The Central California Poetry Journal are copyrighted. Copyright by © by Scott Galloway 1997. All rights are reserved. See main Journal page for
copyright information.
Return to Central California Poetry Journal Table of Contents
I courtyard frolick and cater
to meet your shape,
to rub down your better skin.
When I am not beside you,
beneath you,
I transform from passivity
into a voice
shedding the standard
to which dreams defer.
I like my centered baritone
voice-
It is Pacific Ocean deep,
like James Earl Jones slowly,
purposefully reciting.
It is lovemaking on a page,
like Neftali Basoalto
or Neruda at night.
It is the flutter and flight
of Miles Davis,
delightful and cool.
It is blurred
watercolor wet,
emerging triumphant
just beyond the sound
of your fading
voice.
downstream
I know, where music and time
flow into water,
and make a fine escape.
White clouds
dissolve into dreams, faces,
places I have been
and deaths I have lived.
Here is why I hold this place
near my heart,
not for the water,
or the dark blue cold rush,
but for the chance to live-
even if it is only
reflection.
whistle
and I promise to smile back,
give you my best
passive friend look. I will
wrap lilies and whistle your favorite
song with my smile.
When we are long distant from each other`s
memory, existent only on paper,
that is when we`ll know we lived.
The whistle will lose treble and
gain too much bass
from the weight of forgetfulness,
and render me dull,
frowning.
At the State Theater
Decorations shadowed on walls like
Danville hills
and dreams
I have never remembered.
I breathe and you smile beside me,
projections in your eyes
of other places,
small huts where women live
admiring your pale skin
and fearing your strength.
if I look closely enough.
Lights on ceilings
like stars in the bluest sky,
the truest sky
transpiring like film
and the dreams
I balk to meet.
winter photography
it was the world,
unconcerned,
and a tree,
reaching for the corner like an old man,
stretched straight,
diagonal.
Authors and poets submitting original materials to this journal retain all rights to their
original work, except those rights specifically assigned in writing to Solo Publications including the right to publish the submitted work in The Central California Poetry Journal. The poems on this page are copyrighted by the author.
Copyright © Lee Herrick 1997.
Send email to the Central California Poetry Journal
Return to Solo Publications On Line
Return to Solo Publications Web Index
Back To The Top