Guest Poet Steve Fine


My Anger is fueled
By a desire for
Justice for myself.

Anger glows for me
Like an uncut, shiny ruby
Hard, Angular, and Non-Porous.

I can hold my anger in my hands
But it heats up.
So hot in fact
I can hardly touch it.

I can nurse it,
Fondle it,
Knead it.

But letting anger out,
Expressing how I feel,
Requires a Heimlich Manuver of the soul,
And sometimes I'm a failure at the process.

November 1997

Steve Fine's Questions:

Have I ventured into territory much too personal, or is this a topic that people can identify with?

Correspond with Steve Fine at
with your ideas about this poem.


One night I fell into a deep sleep,
And I dreamt that I viewed a beautiful valley
From a high overlook.

I saw lush, green farmland
Rich with crops and fertile soil,
That was jigsawed into tiny pieces
By highways, buildings, and shopping centers.

In the dream
I recognized this
For what it meant
To my life.

The lush, green vibrancy
Of my spirit was being encroached
By the demands of
My job, personal finance, and empty obligations.

We're all farmers of our soul.
We need to protect ourselves
From encroaching poisons.

It's a necessity not only for our spirit,
But physical well being as well.

November 1997

Steve Fine's Questions:

Is this poem not cryptic enough for a general audience, or does it again focus too much on the author's own concern about the value of his own life?

Correspond with Steve Fine at
with your ideas about this poem.

The Albany Poetry Workshop