Published Poetry by Saxon Henry


Anywhere But Here

Anywhere But Here is available through Amazon, the collection of poems representing two decades of my poetic explorations and my first published book of poetry.

Anywhere but Here, one of Saxon Henry's newest books


Dream of Venice 

My latest poem Tattered Visage was recently published in the sumptuous book Dream of Venice, edited by JoAnn Locktov with photographs by Charles Christopher.

Cover of Dream of Venice on Saxon Henry blog


My Education in Poetry

I had the tremendous pleasure of studying poetry at Vermont College, one of my mentors there being Tom Absher. He inspired me to dig deep and to understand how beauty lurks in language, needing only to be teased out to spark the imagination. Here is one of my poems from that era, which will be included in my forthcoming book of poems Anywhere But Here.



                                                        —for Jim Ritter of Buck Creek Jazz Band

He blew the heart out of heaven,

flung the notes into the din

of man-made storm.

In three hours

he sifted through

all the cries

men were given

before the world

went sinfully silent.

He drew us in,

turned on the smokey room

and picked the ribs of noise

until sound bled—


         more, more.

© Saxon Henry



Graduate Work With the Late William Packard

While working toward a graduate degree at New York University, I had the great fortune of studying with poet, playwright and acting coach William Packard. He has been a tremendous influence on me as a poet, playwright and aesthetically driven human being. Below are several poems I wrote while under his mentorship.

Cover of NYQ

Babylon, a poem by Saxon Henry



                                                                 “Fallen, fallen is Babylon the Great!

                                                                            God has remembered her iniquities

                                                                mix a double draught for her

                                                        in the cup she mixed…”

                                                                                 Revelations 18


The wind lifts spray from a lit fountain above

a gouged bench on a platform for the 1 and 9,

where raucous girls—one with orange matted hair

and a ditzy brunette in a poodle coat—

disregard stares and laughter.

An anxious woman in a fur

watches the board at Penn Station

while her escort checks his watch again,

as if his need for a hit of culture has been sated

by an operatic rush and a voluminous meal.

When they board the express train for Babylon

do they return to an avenue of brick houses

poised on the brink of the Great South Bay?

As they careen from the tunnel into the vaulted language of night,

how long will they stare out the window, silent as sentinels?

© Saxon Henry

Published in the New York Quarterly,

Issue 59/ June 2003


Saxon Henry's poem Burden of Coincidence




I’ve been given a room where a bent fly swatter

and a Niobrara Cross on a beaded chain

hang on a nail by the dresser.

My window faces where Crazy Horse

and Iron Nation Streets converge —

a vacant corner since a housing project

was lifted from the soil. I watch

as children scatter, tossing fire crackers

onto the dirt. Each time I flinch

like my mother’s poodle when he was smacked

for nervously chewing his own skin.

This hem of the prairie is splattered with light

punctuating the fourth of July. In the church next door,

the priest reads Psalms about the righteousness of giving

while the washing machines in the laundromat mouth

                                              Oh God.

© Saxon Henry

Published in Skidrow Penthouse/Volume 2