Tag Archives: November Chapbook Challenge

Tired of the Inevitable Deaths of Smallish Dragons

Posted on November 3, 2018 by whimsygizmo

, she chalks their wings in darkest hour -glass green, splendid in their falling. They’re sprawling loose and long and strong in this bright sky, and she can see tiny talons, teeth. Truth. The wild wild proof and promise of … Continue reading →

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tired of the entanglement of titles

Posted on November 3, 2018 by whimsygizmo

, she colors outside the lies. revels in her own muchness, such as it is at this moment in tumbled ………………-time.   .. In November, we poem.       

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this glorious poem

Posted on November 2, 2018 by whimsygizmo

.. she’s all round hips and loose lips and sibilant spill; full of curves and nerves and the no -frills call of the wildebeest. she’s found herself in ink and sky, relies on timbered truth and marbled wry humor and … Continue reading →

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On Top of Spaghetti

Posted on November 27, 2017 by whimsygizmo

I lost my poor meatball, When somebody sneezed. ………….. – old Scout song   .. We have lost our ever -lovin’ ……(meatballs) ……………(meanings) minds. You will find us here, ………..tryin’ to use our noodles, find some new way ……to say ………….God … Continue reading →

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This Day

Posted on November 22, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. This poem has 24 hours to prove herself, remove herself from the naughty list. She’s just in time for a seize -the-rhyme (Carpe De-um) sort of day (oh. You say day you say day you say day? Oh.) Give … Continue reading →

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Full Heart

Posted on November 19, 2017 by whimsygizmo

You saw the whole of the moon I spoke about wings You just flew …………………– Waterboys   . She’s more moon than most, actual size never changing but always new in her glow. Throw in one lone crow, black smudge … Continue reading →

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An Open Letter to the World

Posted on November 16, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. This poem would like to apologize to all concerned for her audacity, her glib glee and her faux false hope. She has asked too much and lost touch with reality one too many ……………..(lines) times. She’s wished on broken … Continue reading →

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Rebel Poem {with a Clause}

Posted on November 14, 2017 by whimsygizmo

This poem is not a sonnet or a villanelle. She has no set rhythm or rhyme to tell. She’ll merely flow and cast her spell ………………………..(or not.) She’s caught the anti- virus of the rhyme, and mind. No iambic feet … Continue reading →

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Sunset in a Sonnet Skirt

Posted on November 14, 2017 by whimsygizmo

And all your friends they ride into the sunset fly into the sunset and away they’re thrown into the fire… …………………….Coldplay     .. A little sound or song breathes soft right here within the crimson fallings of the day. … Continue reading →

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Pondering the if of you, and smiling.

Posted on November 9, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. There’s a moon out, see? And she’s a busy-body. In no time she’ll span this great vast sky and you and I will still be sitting here, and that’s okay by me. I’ve got ghosts, but you’ve held them … Continue reading →

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