Tag Archives: moon stones

Ink Queries 

(a Curtal Sonnet) :: If we ask our questions of the sky  will it answer with its fallen stars and Orion’s belt playing in tune? When we raise our palms and wonder why  fireflies won’t stay in gathered jars, how then … Continue reading

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With Ardent Affection for an Indifferent Moon 

They say we’re out of ways to woo you.  But I, heart tied to sky,shall try to fool you  into loving me back. See, the clacking of all this black is really just a churning starless seabrought to you on bended knee.  Are you the … Continue reading

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fables

the lion and the owl and the hound and the fox and the grasshopper and the ants and the tortoise and the hare and the many many mice and the golden-egged goose have all gonehome , and all that’s left is that stone -soup moon.  and I, (alone)am still not … Continue reading

Posted in April PAD 2022 | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

yet another poem for that fat golden girl

the other one tends to get all the attention (all that tangerine morning shine) ,  but she (more sinister sister, dark side tried and true light thief) still knows how to own a sky.  we stop and watch her balloon-float gloat her way up, a full hot cup of … Continue reading

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luna, see?

call me half -crazy, some crescent-style smile, but sometimes that’s all of me i let you see.  i’ve got a darker side.  howl away.  but call me full, and i’ll show you, fool:  whether i’m giving you the cold shoulder, out for bloodor feeling blue, i’m always  waxingwaning  crazy like … Continue reading

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the first grimace of a fractured moon

has us grinning, too and fused to the dancefloor of this star-stung sky. 

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ain’t nothin’

better than this over -easy moon, spooned into a star scram-bled sky.  …. written for poetic asides November chapbook challenge.

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stone stroll

  play magnetic poetry here.       

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Eve’s Dropping

And that full fierce moon is rising again, untying again, setting herself loose, a balloon unstringed. She’s got a whole new helium-heck of hallowed …………………..(waning) reasons why , and those trees are setting their limbs for (l)eavesdropping, finding new space … Continue reading

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whether we write, or knot (daisy-chained phrase) we tie ourselves to moontoo soon, to storm too late. we debate ink over ocean swell. we tell ourselves the words won’t swim, fair-weathered whim will ragequit in mid-line.  we find ourselves a-dangle, participles waning. verbs complaining, tangled in theirown bright … Continue reading

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