Full Moon Story Night


Story poems by

Dick Holmes

140 pages, $12 cover price
ISBN 978-1-59948-475-4


Published by Pure Heart Press


Full Moon Story Night

is a multidimensional

event. A time, a place

with a moon out there

and also an inner moon

where story and poem

wash in together every

full moon night.

Dick Holmes lives and writes in the Mill Creek area near Columbia, South Carolina. The inspiration for each of his poems, he writes, arises like morning mist from the pool of subconscious impressions left by his experiences in life. Once an inspiration gets his attention, he makes a poem of it by mediating a creative interaction between improvisation and artistic composition. His guiding aim throughout the process is to transform dormant, seemingly insignificant impressions into waking awareness and meaningful expression. He is also the author of two other poetry books published by Pure Heart Press, Recipes for Gratitude and Flowers Grow Wild. He can be contacted at dick_holmes@epi.sc.edu.


“What is God, and who am I?”
were the first words that fell
from the seeker’s mouth, words
caught by a swirling breeze,
lifting, floating, twirling
to the ground, where they planted
themselves and waited for rain.

“Are you a figment of my
imagination, God?” asked an old
tree that grew from one of those
first words of the seeker.
“Or are you the one that’s real
and I the figment of yours?”

“You are I, and I am Real,”
God whispered in the breeze.
“Now let go of your fruits
and join Me at the Feast.”


“We could go any number of ways from here,”
said the guide, “none of which is very scenic but
ways, nonetheless.”

“Would one of them take us into Idaho?”
asked a bespectacled lady who may have been
ninety years old but looked as if she was still
twelve or so. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“Did you know,” said the guide, “that the name
Idaho is a Shoshone word that means “Up a creek?”

“Is that right?” the twelve-to-ninety-year-old lady said.

“No, heh heh,” said the guide, “just kidding. But
don’t worry, no extra charge for lame jokes.
Actually, the exact origin of the name is a bit of a
mystery. There are a number of claims about it
swirling around in the waters of Idaho.”

“Is that what makes the potatoes there so good?”
asked a little boy wearing a multi-colored
baseball cap with a propeller on top.

“I’m sure that has something to do with it, alright,
buddy,” said the guide.


Ibrahim’s Lebanese father loved
the sound of the trumpet, but with its
three valves designed for the Western scale,
how could you properly get from it
the quarter tones of the Middle Eastern scale?

Aha, with the addition of a fourth valve!
So, he invented a four-valve trumpet
to expand the instrument’s tonal capabilities.

Consequently, what does his trumpet-playing son
Ibrahim do with the flexible new horn?

To the chagrin of his father, Ibrahim uses it to fuse
Western jazz with traditional Lebanese music.

Now Ibrahim and his father have to invent
a four-valve relationship to accommodate
their respective creativities.

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