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Tag Archives: poem
because her skin is paper thin
.. , this poem is aching, forsaking all others and staking her claim. she poems in sigh -lence and strain, drains her(selves) of salt, and ink. she thinks in phrase, praises the page, this sky-scarred poet in scumbled, scattered bliss. … Continue reading
Posted in dVerse poems, Quadrille
Tagged paper skin, poem, poeming about poeming, psalms, Q44, Quadrille, scumble
21 Comments
this is not the day we wanted, but we’ll boogie on through
.. it’s a journey dance, (one grin forward, two lulls back) a knick-knack-patty -melt (big green splat!) of skip and shadow. a rose cloud spilling itself to breeze. it’s a jar the sky leaves open, as bubbles shimmer-twist pop (don’t … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged cloud, dancing on broken floors, dVerse, knick-knack patty whack, poem, Poetry, Q44, Quadrille, the one where she uses all the words
10 Comments
A Sliver of Silver in an Ebony Sea
.. Luna -ticks off time, space, crafts tides. She treads on ocean, spreads her milky sway forever over each closed day. Say she’s a planet, she’ll laugh; an angel, she’ll shed you cloudy tangled tears. Call her a loser as … Continue reading
Solitaire
. The cards are stacked against her, aces down. She’s been alone so long the walls are talking, squawking about her lack of decorum progress hygiene. There’s a newspaper in that pile over there, says Carter made president. She knows … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged alone poem, hoarding, lonely poems, poem, poeming, Poetic Asides
2 Comments
the cheese stands alone
. there’s a man on the street with dirty feet and an old guitar. he’s got $17 in an old jam jar, but he can’t remember how to get home. there’s a girl on the on the stage who dances … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged alone poem, broken songs, lonely poems, murder of crows, poem, poeming the blues, Poetic Asides, Writing
1 Comment
True North
(Advice for the Directionally Challenged) . When all other maps shred and the tread on your borrowed shoes has grown thin, spin the globe sideways. The beat of your own heart is best, the rhythm of your own caged … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged directions, finding yourself, getting lost, globes, maps, poem, poeming, Poetic Asides, shawna sez i should add more tags, true north, Writing
2 Comments
