Announcing Sketches of Spain and Other Poems

•February 16, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Rasmus Sketches of Spain Cover JPEG

Sketches of Spain and Other Poems is the first book of poetry from Daniel W. Rasmus, author of Listening to the Future and Management by Design. Rasmus’s poetry has appeared for several years in leading poetry journals like Barrow Street, Indiana Review and Slipstream. For the first time, you will find the majority of his published work in one place. In addition to his published work, Rasmus includes two previously unpublished long poems that explore the human spirit, and the current place of humanity, through reflections on the Miles Davis masterpiece, ‘Sketches of Spain,’ and through the lens of recent discoveries in physics. This eclectic volume of poetry is sure to entice, intrigue and enlighten even the most discerning reader. This is poetry for the 21st Century.

Buy your copy today!

Sketches of Spain and Other Poems


Los Angeles, Griffith Park

•August 3, 2012 • Leave a Comment

August 4, 1984

The airtight vision of poets and lovers
covers the world:
three die of love in Los Angeles

and the merry-go-round swirls in air
and arias of machines swirl in ears
claps of hooves and muscle
bubble-gum blooms from a nostril
steeds and mares painted once a year
with the same colors
the same lipstick and marker—
and the same mother
slaps another quarter in the slot

motion without children
and laughter

and the mother wrinkles in the background
dreaming of pigeons and laundry

heat saturates parked cars
Pico of white t-shirts and knives
the stabbing of a summer afternoon
and blood dried to a door
comes to life in flakes and flashes
a red snow of steeples
of cemeteries and families

music surrounds the women
dancing in gas stations
hothouse hairdos bristle
and matchbooks full of children
climb into the air like screams.


Published in Illya’s Honey, Winter 2003.

of everything

•July 5, 2012 • 1 Comment

like glass
slick after a rain
then spotted with the reminder of rain
if only
the space between stars


filled with something

they tell me
light might have weight
after all
torn quietly
while you work
so you
until the children come home
with questions that cannot be answered any longer

this context

on my hand all of it
just as though God
tattooed it there




examined closely enough
to reveal
the transparency of everything.



Awarded Special Merit in the Muriel Craft Bailey Memorial Award for 2005.
Published in The Comstock Review, Fall/Winter 2005


•July 4, 2012 • Leave a Comment

The face is still paper.
A line.
A shadow.

The top of a lip
wanting a kiss,

a bridge of nose,
a hint of eye.

The face is manufactured
from stumps,

searching for a finish.

It is as though we made love on paper
and molted our shadows.

Published in Bitterroot, Summer 1988

"I was about to" published on Belletrist

•April 4, 2011 • Leave a Comment


Bellevue College has re-launched its literary magazine, Belletrist, and I am honored to be in its first issue.

I was about to

the first time I saw you
on a bench…

Read more of I was about to here.

Sea Air and Brown Pelicans

•February 9, 2011 • Leave a Comment

From Ecopoetics, August 2009



She Sells Oranges Quietly

•January 19, 2011 • 1 Comment

She wakes early
releases her algebra for a day
puts her essays on hold
forages the appropriate tee-shirt to
state the appropriate statement
or just wears stay-cool-jersey to stay cool
on hot spring days
paints dawn with her fingertips
on the way to the farmer’s market
a kind of retro trip
cool in its own way to
stack oranges and
tangerines with

plastic glove-wrapped fingers
and sell
oranges quietly
early on Sundays
before churches accumulate and empty
before the malls open

tuck satsuma mandarins
into thin plastic bags
do the arithmetic
in the back of her mind
multitasking on last-minute projects and prom dresses
feel her fingerprints through the gloves
unique as wrinkles on orange rind
as she returns change
scented with clementine and tangerine

the oranges whisper
about people
who buy apples and potatoes
say they will get scurvy
that they do not understand the sensuous aspects of fruit
the joy of bathing in the juice
wrapping in peel like a second skin
putting a slice in your mouth
peel first
to make children laugh

oranges stack quietly
ask for little
she helps them find homes
among Brussels sprouts
baby carrots and
freshly baked multigrain bread

samples pummelos and ugli
disperses kumquats and limes
adds small adventures named citrus reticulate
or aurantifolia
to lemonade and margaritas
and just squeezed by hand
into clear cold water
against the skin of fresh salmon
takes a mental note for creative writing class
about detoxifying citrus daydreams

smiles quietly
tells customers to enjoy their mandarins.


Published in Illya’s Honey, Spring/Summer 2004

This Poem was a 2005 Pushcart Prize Nominee