Monthly Archives: February 2018

Burn Before Reading

Posted on February 26, 2018 by whimsygizmo

, then sit by the firelight and bask in the glow. Form your own words of glass and sand and tempered phrase. Raise your hands to a burning moon; all these words are embers waiting, going somewhere soon. Watch them … Continue reading →

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Mirror Me a Moon

Posted on February 23, 2018 by whimsygizmo

Ask her to hold back those tides, allow me a little slumber, a little folding of the hands, a wane from these skies. She’s borrowing light again, and so am I, steadfast and longing. A tiny slice of lemon in … Continue reading →

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ask her who she is, she’ll tell you

Posted on February 22, 2018 by whimsygizmo

She is as moon, and does not hold her own full light; still, sometimes, she shines. An American Sentence poem for Day 22 for Grace’s 28 Days of Self Love. 

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a balancing of stones

Posted on February 22, 2018 by whimsygizmo

  she’s precariously held by wayward sky. Day 21 of Grace’s 28 Days of Self Love. In honor of actual self love, I’m not even gonna try to get caught up (took a fun long weekend off to spend with besties.) I’m simply gonna … Continue reading →

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Another Broken Song

Posted on February 21, 2018 by whimsygizmo

… See, this one’s letting a little light in through the   c   r   a   c   k   s, taking back some of its former vows of silence. Slice it quite thin, layer in some amber sky ; you just might find … Continue reading →

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aubade wrapped in tomorrow’s skin

Posted on February 20, 2018 by whimsygizmo

.. before the sun stretches hot and bold, we hold one last gaze at the nothingness of fickle fallen stars. .. twiglet #64.     

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Drink this Poem

Posted on February 20, 2018 by whimsygizmo

… This poem is a rum -bled mess, a stress of syllables and too much (be)gin. Absinthe makes its heart grow fonder. See? It wanders, over yonder. This poem is on a bend -er. Did you find it in a … Continue reading →

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So she’s holding herself together with both arms

Posted on February 13, 2018 by whimsygizmo

, Because stuff wants to fall out. Worries, and fears and all the nonsense of life. Because if she pulls her arms tight (just right), it all stays in. Impossible stardust, contained in cloud. Scatterings of tired brain, not said … Continue reading →

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Because she has grown from this turquoise scrim,

Posted on February 13, 2018 by whimsygizmo

  She braids her roots into the stars, a triumph of chimneys at her crown. She ponders petals and sparrows, casts the moon, and pins it down.   .. Image by artist Catrin Welz-Stein Inspiring prompt from over at dVerse Poetics today, … Continue reading →

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Writing in Dust

Posted on February 13, 2018 by whimsygizmo

She stood {still}, silenced by their judgment, His grace. They dropped their stones because he bade them cast the first.   . twiglet #63. Inspired by the story of a woman from John 8 of the Bible.   

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