Tag Archives: April PAD 2017

The Way We Spill

Posted on April 30, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… We fill ourselves with ink and sighs, pull parchment from the nearest tree. Clack keys. Please: here’s my heart. Can you read it? Hold it softly. It tears. It’s salty and sometimes it swears. It’s got cracks. See the … Continue reading →

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the gist

Posted on April 30, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… she needs words. sun -shine. rain. the moon. the stain of ink on her fingers. salty, sea-soaked toes. prose. the threat and throes of the page. the slant of the sky. the laughter burbling up like a stream. the … Continue reading →

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21 Grams

Posted on April 29, 2017 by 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 →

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Scented Ink

Posted on April 28, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… 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 →

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feasting on the moon, and poems

Posted on April 27, 2017 by whimsygizmo

{a ramble in sestina form} ..   the moon’s a golden pest, a horizon harlot crack -ing open the sky in a ramble of tide, a hiccup of light. watch her wince -squint her way to dawn’s festoon of crimson … Continue reading →

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pocket poems

Posted on April 27, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… go ahead, be a pest. crack open your pocket, your heart, your chest. ramble on in perfect rhyme, or hiccup in perfect iambic time. they might wince or squint as you show ’em, but let’s festoon the world with … Continue reading →

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sunset unsavored

Posted on April 27, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. when we hurry through ……to yawn ……to dawn ..we miss ..the last kiss of tangerine-cherry slush sky.     ..  

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Paper Tigers

Posted on April 26, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… This poem has no re -morse code, no regrets. It does not wish it wasn’t, or want to be something else, even as it trips over its own un -iambic feet. It’s complete in its im -perfections, its imp … Continue reading →

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Regrets, Get Your Regrets!

Posted on April 26, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. Regrets, get your regrets! Your troubles and your frets! Bad relationships? We’ve got ’em, and just when you think you’ve hit rock bottom, we can add that fifth divorce to the pile. Job you hate? There’s no debate! And … Continue reading →

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contractions

Posted on April 25, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… we push and push (and pushandpushandpush) , and then we pull our own hearts out of our chests and watch them walk around in the world as if we do not feel every beat, every booboo, every ache. as … Continue reading →

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