Follow this blog
June 2022 M T W T F S S 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Category Archives: Poetic Asides Chapbook Challenge 2019
’til it’s over there. So hand it to a friend or fiend or your worst enemy or the girl next door or the guy down the street. This poem still has lots to say, to sway, to make hay while … Continue reading
Once upon a time, they danced. Graced the stars from A to Z, poemed in tercets. An opening act of smile and frown, they dip and weave in all dog star sirius-ness, watch their reflections pen prime haiku in … Continue reading
We have been hailed on and snowed in and torn -ado tumbled. We’ve hollowed hurricanes and braved the rain and cycloned half past one. And now here we sit, silent in the sun. ..I In November, we poem. … Continue reading
She’s smallish and smiling behind one shy hand and she just might be standing under a wise old tree. She’s three white sheets to the wind and tangled in breeze, treasoned by the whispers of a shadow’s scoff. She’s wandered … Continue reading
, because every day carries at least one small storm. .. In November, we poem.
, he says there’s a storm on the way. buckle down, get strong. she says i’m already strong. unties her belt and begins to dance. . In November, we poem.
Hey, we’ve diddle-diddled long enough, see? The cat’s fiddling around with her food again, and the cow is over-the-moon in love with that little laughing dog. There’s a fog rolling in, and we’re running out of ………….(patience), ……..dishes ………….and spoons. … Continue reading
.. This poem has fallen in and out of love with her -selves long before this sixth line. She’s daisy-chain tired and yet tried and true. She’s blue. And a particular shade of gray. She really really ……………….(really) wants to … Continue reading
Make a steadfast structure of the sharpest stars. Woo a storm. Then spill a poem. .. In November, we poem.
.. she’s neither new nor wow, but she makes it some -how. breathes. believes. listens to the trees. pens imperfect poems. .. In November, we poem.