Appointed poet laureate of the state of Florida on June 15, 2015, Peter Meinke is the author of over twenty books of poetry. He has received many awards, including a Fulbright Fellowship, two National Endowment for the Arts Fellowships, and three prizes from the Poetry Society of America. He worked at Eckerd College until 1993, when he retired. During his time at the college, he founded and directed its Writing Workshop.


upcoming events

Oct 17 2015
Pink Poetry

You are invited to enjoy the "Think Pink" exhibit at the Broward Art Guild starting Saturday, October 3rd. Next you may focus on an artwork to inspire your poem.

Then we would meet on Saturday, October 17th at 6 pm and read your ekphrastic or art inspired poem for the first round of the meeting. For the second round, you may read 2 poems of our own or your favorite poem.

The Broward Art Guild is located at 3280 NE 32nd Street, Fort Lauderdale, FL 33308 and open Wednesdays through Saturdays.

Directions:Go East on Oakland Park Blvd,Pass US1/Fed HwyGo over drawbridgeMake left on A1ATake left on NE 32nd StPass 1st left on NE 33rd AveIt will be on the left. You can see Bokampers at the end of the block.Please remember to pay parking booth and put the printout on dashboard.

Hosted by: Suzzette Dawes (contact: Suzzettethepoet@gmail.com)http://suzzettedawes.blogspot.com/p/upcoming-events.html 

3280 NE 32nd St
33308 Ft Lauderdale, Florida

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Peter Meinke


Marco Island, Florida

There should be nothing here I don't remember . . .

The Gulf Motel with mermaid lampposts 
and ship's wheel in the lobby should still be 
rising out of the sand like a
Barque of phosphor
On the palmy beach,

Move outward into heaven,
Into the alabasters
And night blues.

Foam and cloud are one.
Sultry moon-monsters
Are dissolving.

Fill your black hull
With white moonlight.

There will never be an end
To this droning of the surf.
She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean.

The sea was not a mask.  No more