Tag Archives: Meeting the Bar

good-enough moon heads to the hardware store

… she’s feeling a bit sallow, scooped a little shallow of her form -er self. that’s okay. nothing a few supplies can’t fix. aisle 6 provides a mirror or two (she’s got some extra reflecting to do). aisle 11 has … Continue reading

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Songs, Sirens, Starlings

.. Treble-tremble me loose oh, {adagio slow} untroubled and stanza’d soft. Hold me. Un -fold me to the tempo of timbre trees, slur me ………….{legato} to an indigo sky. Cadenza me a seasoned sonata chant, a rococo rant, a tiny … Continue reading

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The Bridge at Midnight Trembles

You walk into the room With a pencil in your hand… – Bob Dylan, Ballad of the Thin Man .. You ask it a question or two and you hope it knows some things and that it might sing if … Continue reading

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A (Very) Few Words for Mr. Edmund Clerihew Bentley

… Oh, Mr. Edmund Clerihew B., this witty-verse hue just ain’t for me. As a teen, you invented some poeming fun. But you see, my poems are more…undone.   … A bit of tongue-in-cheekiness for the dVerse prompt, where Gayle … Continue reading

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Reason

… ’This the season of our fallings. The scent and pent-up, unspent while of wailing leaves. We cleave too long to trees, ponder-pander wrong for breeze, squeeze ourselves back into boxes too small too tall too squalling for our aching … Continue reading

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A Meter Maid Goes Rogue

(she’s not all that fond of feet) .. The ticking of the clock is off; her feet are tired, and waning. tickTOCK, clickCLACK. Creep close, stand back. The only thing she craves is sea, a salted skin for staining. Moon … Continue reading

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Hourglass Songs

Keep this under your hat, beneath your skin: let’s begin as smashed hope and promise, a small smidgen of something sound. This stopwatch is set to ‘run’ – maybe we’ll see our turn and learn a thing or two, one … Continue reading

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What Remains

(a Golden Shovel after the first line of The Cremation of Sam McGee, by Robert Service)   … Look there: because we are ghosts digging the strange small and savage broken things the forgotten world has ever done, we all invest our … Continue reading

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{Sevenling: On the corner}

.. On the corner there’s a man with a guitar, a dog and an empty cup. Her eyes don’t know which to see first: strings, collar, coin. The streetlamp crow knows what to do, but he’s not talking.     … Continue reading

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{Sevenling: I have wished}

.. I have wished upon broken shoelaces, falling coins, fading stars. The world is braiding itself back to primary: red, yellow…blue. Maybe it’s time to color outside the lines.   .. I’m hosting Meeting the Bar later today over at … Continue reading

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