Follow this blog
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
(for Basho) .. I know nothing of frogs and their plop-and-splashing, translations with exclamation points, and those without. But I have met cutting words in darkness, echoed again against the shattered sunspill silence of my lily pad heart. .. … Continue reading
, colossal in the awakening of my own un -flat skin, husk ……………………-y voice of silence. these schemes of vein and sinew sky sting a phrase to page, ……………………a transferred why. .. Prompted by Poetic Asides. … Continue reading
They speak in fiery tongues and burning Braille breath, the taloned syllables of sky. Sanskrit scales and trails of scarlet smoke. We listen with our outstretched hands, our hearts, our will and whim and why, and wonder how long be … Continue reading
This poem is a fair …….(maiden) in a bright tower, sticky with cotton candy clouds and crowds of dark (k)nights in dashing star-spilled skin. She’s in it for the pop -corn, you know, the equality that only comes from tumbled … Continue reading
.. they scoffed at us for swallowing that sun -flower dream, for holding our breaths in the snow. we’ve gathered so much more than loose-leaf scenes; we know these syllables might just stand on their own. and so we pick … Continue reading
.. She’s braying and saying that she doesn’t wanna wane today, doesn’t feel like fading away into nothing. She’s crying and sighing and holding nothing back at bay, causing a tempest -tantrum of whine and ocean waves. She’s taxing and … Continue reading