Tag Archives: Miz Q

Saving Nine 

Posted on November 9, 2022 by whimsygizmo

Tell it slant and stitch it well,watch the words fall as hour -glass sands, shifting. We’re  drifting on these wordwindgales, knowing they’ll carry us through. Are we too  wrapped up in these patch-work spells? Only keys and time will tell.  :: Quickly, day … Continue reading →

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hair of the dog 

Posted on November 4, 2022 by whimsygizmo

welcome to wildling bog, where we are full of beansand chase our november (s)word hangovers with applesauce,daisy chain crowns and trees.  we wily wenches climb no stairs (of hair or otherwise) we spin no gold we bear no bling  (the corsets were too tight). we swim no … Continue reading →

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Mad ©Hatterbox Poem

Posted on November 3, 2022 by whimsygizmo

This poem will not stop spilling. It’s thrilling, really if you can keep up. She can’t shut her trap to save her life. Words every -where. She says drink meand we do, because she is both decadent and true  and all things in between. As well as … Continue reading →

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Another Thing, Coming

Posted on September 14, 2017 by whimsygizmo

I’m the dreaming ghost, guest, waitress, watcher, wanting the words to be true. Whatever the weapons may come to mean. ……………………………– Adrienne Rich, Scenes of Negotiation   … You’ve got it, in spades, she tells the girl in the mirror … Continue reading →

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Breaking Blue

Posted on March 23, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. See, here’s the thing: Shape-shifter, soul -drifter, wayward wandering gypsy skydragon. White wisp. You’ve got a thousand other places (things) to be, and I can see them all through cloudy eyes.   .. Prompted by Miz Q. Quickly.  

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Travels with Haircuts

Posted on March 2, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. She trims the tresses of the masses, shears near ears and hears the stories in all their long (and short) glory. Shaves miles, time. Runs with scissors.   .. Prompted by Miz Q. 

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Gatherings

Posted on February 16, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… We shirr ourselves together from invisible strings, clustering in flocks and crowds like birds, mustering our faith. Colorful chairs unfolding, holding our memories. Our laughter, like bright awnings from the street. We swear by flowers, mosaics, the smell of … Continue reading →

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I will be a boring woman, with my wonderful houses.

Posted on February 2, 2017 by whimsygizmo

  … See me? Gray hair flowing in the breeze, listening for the quiet song that still makes the world go ’round? That window there’s my favorite of all my places, all these heart -traces, cobbled homes I’ve tumbled from … Continue reading →

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downward

Posted on January 24, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. she dreams in spiraled clouds, candy spun of nothing-dreams. she seems a wayward soul, a lost girl in dragon skin. she’s begin -ning to believe in something, anything, this thing that is her own dark soul. she knows the … Continue reading →

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Veer, Mere

Posted on January 24, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. So, there’s a milky white elephant in the room, and we’re all too blind (too tired, too bored) to see it. Your heart tells you it’s a sham, a scam, a giant hat, a pot of nothing. Your hands … Continue reading →

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