Author Archives: whimsygizmo
… We meter it out in heartbeats, giggles, song, tick-tock of clock and shades of calendar squares. Tears. We stare at walls, wonder what is level (tiny bubble of water, centered.) Point true north and go every which way. Loose. … Continue reading
… A wheelbarrow may be some -thing upon which much(ness) depends, but it is not my nom de plume, not that last plum you ate that was so cold. It has but one wheel, and a tendency for tipping over, … Continue reading
… perhaps, this is (definitelyprobablymaybe) the second to last (to last to last) ………………(too fast) poem i shall ever pen , she tells herself. ……………………..and laughs. .. prompted by toads.
… I write in rain and coffee stained half-moon paper smiles. The cloy and cling of past -life sting smoke. The perfumed poke of pine. The desert after a storm. The smell of snow and silence. Indigo flow and old … Continue reading
.. He’s well fed, what with all the cookie crumbs and occasional pieces of cheese. But please, don’t wake him too soon. He’s exceedingly grumpy until at least noon. And whatever you do, don’t sing. When given just the ghost … Continue reading
.. This poem has no home. It’s not known for throne nor stones or SnoCones. It’s quick, just a schtick to get things flowing, get things growing, get things knowing the right pace for their race, their small place in … Continue reading