Author Archives: whimsygizmo

occasional storm

  we are reborn in these deluge moments,heavens cracked open and boomingsudden protest of all this desert dry. in drops of liquid hopefrom broken cloud, redemption falls from sky.  we unfold our hands andrejoice in water only thrown, streams without stones.  It’s Quadrille Monday over at … Continue reading

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#run one more

until legs and lungs are soreuntil you’ve evened the score with your busy, bossy brain.  just get up with the sun and put on the shoes and choose to run away. 

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slightly used

a bit abused,but still in working order. beats fine. runs sometimes, but only races the breeze. resuscitated in ’96, now clicks and ticks to the rhythm of true. slightly ask-ew about the world, and words. often absurd in both size and scope. a little tender, thin-skinned. inquire … Continue reading

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three ways to smash a plum

i.squish that sucker with your thumb,purple-golden pulp oozing through your hungry hands.  ii. chew your way through until your lips are blue and your tongue is tangedand tinged with indigo.  iii. plonk! it against the wall an unresponsive ball once so sweet and so cold,now begging for forgiveness. Kim’s got … Continue reading

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pilfering wishes under a pockmarked sky

after we’ve said all there is to sighwe stand , scooping fallen stars into our cupped hands.  written for twiglets. come play!

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the sky’s a curio cabinet of stars, with her at center

it gets curiouser and curious-er, her fascination with that sky sand dollar,that noble star scholar, mama moon. she swoons at crescent smile, a fine fool for full. you can question her about it some, but she has no words. only hum, and shine.  It’s Quadrille Monday over at … Continue reading

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an etched scratch scrape in a twisting sky

this poem is a tightly wound spring. she’s a  taut wound caught up in clacked-black things.  she’s got unspoken broken and unscattered seed, unpolished corners and unmet needs.  she’s a wayward kite on a fragile string. let’s unwind her now, and let her sing.  Lill’s given us a fun … Continue reading

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this isn’t the year we wanted

  nope.  things cancelledlives rankledtime tangled and all that crazy spin.  so we begin to swallow our dis-appointments and our whys  and try to find our glasses at least half fooled.  the only way to cope: gulp hope. ::

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Imagine the Frog’s Dismay

at never being kissedat being dissed at having missed out on kingdom things.  or perhaps he hops                   (happily) wild in the woodssheds all those shouldsand at nightfall, he sings.  :: It’s Wednesday. We poem.

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this poem is that one last glimmer

of hope, rising.  she buys an umbrella. she holds hands with horizon.  she winks at the sun. she slicks back her hair and gets busy. she hitchhikes on dandelion wishes. she piggybacks stars.  Written for today’s twiglets. Come play!

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