Monthly Archives: May 2017

Lego Decisions

  ..  We’ve known all along that we are building something from nothing, that each click together is all part of the design. We know dropped bricks mean sore soles, and that the instructions are long gone. We know the … Continue reading

Posted in poetic asides poems | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Snapping at the Sky

She’s bruised, but I can’t tell if she’s abused …………….or just camera shy.   .. Prompted by Poetic Asides.   

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Magi(c)

… We spin in gold and frank, incensed words; mirth. Myth. Ribbons of phrase, ink-stained paper hearts, the wrappings and trappings of pain and passion. We fashion our -selves in tissue-thin jars, the scars that come in silver moon slivers … Continue reading

Posted in dVerse poems | Tagged , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

the significance of a washed-out sky

.. she’s flannel-soft today, the muddled braised white of a favorite tee turned ……………inside ……….out.   .. twiglet#26. ..

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This Season of Crimped Grass

.. We breathe the cold, snapped against silence; the blue seeps into our bones. We raise our limbs to a cracked-open sky, the clouds like overlapping stones.   .. wordled.    

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fiddle moon

    play magnetic poetry here.   

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Re:Pair

.. I won’t try to fix you , if you’ll just let me fly.   .. prompted by poetic asides.   

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Night Bane

“I’m the thing monsters have nightmares about.” – Buffy the Vampire Slayer  .. Do monsters dream? A swirl of stakes and garlic and revealing mirrors and silver bullets? Are talons sharpened on the wool of counted sheep? Howl at that … Continue reading

Posted in moon poems | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Mr. Fixit Tries to Spackle the Moon

.. Too soon, he realizes it’s use -less; she’s born …….too many scars. And besides, she’s shrinking again. Waning until she’s weightless, wantless, willed and whiled to sky. Ask him why he keeps at it, and he’ll tell you this: … Continue reading

Posted in moon poems, poetic asides poems | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Manchester, and More

.. The world is aching again, like a rotten tooth. I long for silence and the calm dry wash of a brighter ……….moon.   .. twiglet #25.  

Posted in moon poems, twiglets | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments