35,000 Feet Over Tennessee 

​There’s a girl at a piano

Chestnut ringlets around her face

Smiling at her sheet music 

Writing her perfect notes into place
A tired old man, dingy white shirt

Sinks into the grooves of his chair

Dishes piled high in the sink

Since Beth died, he just doesn’t care
A toddler chases his puppy

Together they find a field of clover

His mamma marvels at his energy 

Wishes this day would never be over
A war veteran stares at his I.V. drip

The sudden blast still etched on his brain

His legs will recover, someday

But his mind will never be the same
A sophomore sprints across campus

Earbuds shoved away in a hurry

Not sure if he picked the right major

And that last test has him lost in worry
And then there’s me, flying alone

knowing He sees this all

He saw my rise, my accomplishments,

He catches me when I fall
How would I appear to those who see?

An astral projection of both loss and glory?
A woman with dark chasms in her aura 

Who lost her son too soon 

Who grieves her boy every moment 

Loving him from here to the moon
But her story ain’t over yet

She has to go on living awhile 

Ashes in pocket, Chicago in a locket

Thankful for 18 years of his smile
2016 Cronin Detzz (On my way to Chicago with my son’s ashes. I intuited that I was over Tennessee, getting images of people below. Flight tracker confirmed it was Tennessee)


Bees Knees

Why should I think negative thoughts

When there are swans

and ponds

and palm fronds

and a great beyond

beautiful butterfly wings

and little pretty things

and children playing on swings

and peaceful churchbells ring
Why let those idiots get to me
When there are breezes through the trees

and teases tickling cheeks

and kneeses on the bees

and podses for all the peas
Why let them drag me down
When there are warm sticky buns

and sparkling lakes under the sun

and baby lambs who run just for fun

and the moments when I realize the Many are really One
And most of all, what keeps my happiness in view

angels above keep us true

and there is enough when it’s just we two

and especially my love for you

-Cronin Detzz

Pinesol Warrior

Between the dark matter of nothing
and the supreme light of God
a pile of dishes must be washed

One soul cries from a pit of despair
another soul cries from the glory of heaven
and I fold a pile of laundry

I wish to be neither and I wish to be everything
I wish to merge into the sublime bliss of love
but a hiccup brings me to now and I sweep the floor

Wondering why enlightenment requires the mundane

Why my journey requires toothaches and dust bunnies

I’m an odd kind of spiritual soldier who battles toothpaste spray on mirrors
Who travels to exotic places like grocery stores
Slaying the beasts with ironing boards of justice
Dousing the evil with Pinesol
Victorious in the daily battles, struggling in the nightly meditations between the sublime and the ridiculous
– Cronin Detzz

The Sound of Blue

The Sound of Blue
The clip clop of flip flops
Children’s laughter echoing across the sea
Dancing waves sing of one-ness
And I’m lost in the sparkling melody

The crash of a splash
A choppy sploosh of jet skis just out of reach
If blue has a sound, well then, I’ve surely found it
With a pocket full of shells down at the beach
Cronin Detzz 2014


As a writer, you may have given thought to your epitaph. If you are a poet, why don’t you write a little something to encapsulate what you are all about?

Even if you don’t want a headstone, you could still write a poem and seal it in an envelope, with instructions to a trusted love one to open the mysterious envelope upon your “graduation day” to the afterlife.

Epitaph-Cronin Detzz

Here is mine:
Life is brief and fairly fleeting
at the end, there should be no grieving
Moving on to learn all that can be known
open eyes see all that can be shown

Beautiful bliss, basking in the blue
Unstruck chord plays just for you
Sunshine bright below and above
There lies everything
in nothing but love

Please leave a comment below and share your epitaph.

This poem was published in “Poetry for Our Time.” You can peek inside at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s?ie=UTF8&page=1&rh=n%3A283155%2Cp_27%3ACronin%20S.%20Detzz

Keep writing & keep sharing – Cronin Detzz


Father's Green Eyes

A crumbling Spanish castle
adorning the Mediterranean Sea
a kite in my small hands
my father on bended knee

“See the world, and the beauty in it?”
My youthful nod (his reply, odd)
“Compared to heaven, it’s a pile of shit”

Why did he need to spoil that sunny day?
Why were his lessons always imparted this way?

I already knew the world and the ugliness therein,
I already wore fear and sadness as a second skin

So I released the kite into sun-drenched skies
Admired God’s work, shunning illusory lies
I shifted my view, envisioned the castle anew
Saw the world askew
through my father’s green eyes

-Cronin Detzz

My father said this to me when were in Spain, admiring the sea and the Spanish castles.  It was an odd way for him to burst my bubble of joy, but it was a teachable moment from his perspective.  We had been raised to honor God and learn our true purpose for being born into this worldly realm.  I have been coping with writer’s block lately, mostly due to life’s pressures and struggling with health issues.  I’ve been kinder to myself lately, and after some needed bed rest my Muse and I are back on speaking terms.  Keep writing & keep sharing! – Cronin Detzz


Your family, friends, reading groups, writer’s circles all love your poetry. Why is it so difficult to get your work accepted by a literary press?

Great poets know that the first three or four lines require a hook.

Part of the problem is that literature works are art, and therefore, subjective. I have been writing for so long that I know I have a feel for what it takes to write a stellar poem; and yes, many of my poems are not stellar in the public’s view. I know that. But I wrote them out of the earnest desire to express a view. I do have a folder of unpublished poems – I cannot let go of the creative ideas birthed within those writings, but I cannot publish them, either. They are not very good. Most of them were written when my vocabulary and skills were nascent.
Black Velvet with Diamonds
What I do when submitting poetry to contests or literary presses: I choose the poems that have the best “hook.” Writers know that novels require a hook – great poets know that the first three or four lines also require a hook.

I’m happy to report that this poem, “Black Velvet with Diamonds,” will be published in “Poetry Quarterly.” As any poet can attest, it is a great feeling to know that someone else liked your poem enough to feature it in their journal. The poem came to me as I was sitting in my back yard one night, admiring the clear view of the desert sky (I live in Las Vegas, Nevada). I began to wonder why God would create this view, and penned:

The rained pummeled His roof
for days and days
When the leaden clouds parted
He was lifted from His haze

So He built an impossibly long table
draped it with black velvet
and littered it with diamonds

The newborn twinkling stars
surely never shown so bright
The nascent moon
surely never looked so kind
as they did on that first cloudless night

God reclined on his couch, satisfied
took a nap
and dreamed up man
to be a willing audience,
to appreciate His nocturnal nativity

To submit your work in “Poetry Quarterly,” follow the guidelines on their website: http://poetryquarterly.com/

Which poems of your own have the best hook?

Good luck! Keep writing & keep sharing – Cronin Detzz