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Tag Archives: clacking black
future music
a symphony of sunlighta melody of moona whispered whir of trees a warble a murmura burble (and still) the clack-patter of keys and she (limbs raised to sky) will live there in that shanty by the sea. ::In November, we poem. Quickly.
Posted in Miz Q Prompts
Tagged clack, clacking black, music, music poems, nature is my music, sea shanty, sea witch, someday poems
6 Comments
Clacking Back
The morning speaks in cobblestone braille and snail trail goo. You might think my toes would have a go at it all, but my fingers are what’s itchy. Twitchy with time and not enough time and rhyme that isn’t jiving. Arrival’s easy; it’s staying that’s a trick. … Continue reading
Posted in Miz Q Prompts
Tagged alien communication, Arrival, Braille, clacking back, clacking black, inky fingers, itchy fingers, Quickly, talking with snails
4 Comments
poem in peril
help! she’s running from the dactyls again, fleeing her own parchment skinand huddling between the lines. she’s been participle dangled and meter-mangled and nearly strangled (but wits intact) by stanza. in fact, she left us a syllabled s-o-s,and I fear it’s no joke, see? cuz just when you think she’s … Continue reading
this poem is unpunctual, at best
And I couldn’t tell, if anyone here was feeling the way I doBut I’m lonely now, and I don’t know howTo get it back to good– Matchbox Twenty she is approximately 751 days behind the eight ball the last call the deadline that fine line between … Continue reading
Posted in April PAD 2022
Tagged clacking black, late, syllabled skin, this poem poems, writing on writing
2 Comments
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
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged clacking black, Q44, Quadrille, this poem poems, tightly wound, wound, wounded
18 Comments
this poem
she’s a blank sheet, waiting. a quiet screen longing to scream. some black-throne keys to clack, attack the day. she’s smudge on snow, you know. a black blinking portal door signaling for more (words, phrases,time.) she is paper ghost haunting every smoky line. she’s … Continue reading
Striking Sky
.. God’s taking full -flash photos again and it all rips open in a zigzag stab of gold cracking black in half, all clacking cymbals and flickered blaze. Our gaze is broken by thunder, struck by time, backlit by the … Continue reading
tiny poem
.. just a line or two clacked against all this busy breeze. .. prompted by poetic asides
shhhhh…there’s only time for tiny poems
and so she clacks a wee small bit of black in the margins. smudge. sway. it is no great secrecy that she wishes for more, longs to store the rest of the world away and shout the things on her bursting heart. … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged clacking black, january is for tiny poems, only time for tiny poems, tiny poems, twiglets
9 Comments