Monthly Archives: June 2015

Painting the Doorframe

Fame comes in quiet strokes, the brushed-aside ecru of foundations, the corners and arches that fall between genius. The masterpiece of scaffold -ing. The gentle royalty ……………..of crown ……………………….molding. . photo and prompt by Quickly.

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Spinning Wheels and Ruby Shoes

-Zwobel   . Falling’s not the problem, really. (Landing sucks, but she’s about to shake it off.) It’s the bent pedal. The handle bars askew. The achoo of a moment when the whole world is upside-down and the sky is … Continue reading

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The Persistence of Memory Alarm Clock

Dali knew the deal. Time really is just melting away. Maybe a good reminder to stop hitting s  n  o  o  z  e.     prompted by quickly.

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To Make the Masses Understand

.. , mail them packages of am -per -sands. ..   prompted by quickly.  

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I’m Half Crazy, part deux

Hours 11, 12 and 13 had to be created on paper, at church, after checking the prompts on my phone. I tried to post from my phone, but as I suspected, technology (or lack of therein) revolted. .   Hour … Continue reading

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I’m Half Crazy

Yesterday I completed a cool Poetry Marathon Challenge. Many incredible brave creative souls did a full 24 hours of poeming (24 poems in 24 hours, one each hour). I decided right up front that I would not be able to … Continue reading

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Ampersand Armband

.. Pantomime the paradigm (brother, can you spare a dime?) Anytime, he chimes, in his maritime mime. I’m all aslant, can’t (en)chant this scant rant into anything with wings. Understand, this was unplanned; my heart’s offbeat, obsolete, un -manned, etched … Continue reading

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Spelunking Through My Own Junk

. It’s dark in here, but isn’t it always, deep in the corners where the most brittle bones lie? I’ve got seven lives or so that say we’ll make it out of this one, see the sun again and try … Continue reading

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Epiphany upon walking through the woods on a sunny Tuesday

.. The nose hole on a skeleton forms a perfect upside-down heart. This is not something she knew before, or ever hopes to know again, but standing here ankle deep in shed leaves and waiting for sirens, she sees it. … Continue reading

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let’s live suddenly without thinking

  original, by E.E. Cummings: prompted by quickly, who invites us to put some spin on an existing poem, leaving the original title. i’m in an E.E. mood today, and i freakin’ love this title.

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