Tag Archives: Poetics

How She Got It Back

… She just put on her little Miss Grooooovy two-shoes and danced the indigo blues to a southern sky. And oh, my did that sun ever shimmy-sway …s    h    i    n    e ……………just fine.   .. … Continue reading

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Come Again, and Soon

.. We woo that wild and wily moon, ask her to stay. Her visits are brilliant, short, and waning. We whine. Try to wine and dine her with burgundy clouds, ebony scrim. She turns in her dark dress, golden tresses … Continue reading

Posted in dVerse poems, moon poems | Tagged , , , , , , | 8 Comments

She’ll need more than galoshes for this bright rain.

.. She’s walked a few in blue suede, slipped ruby, glass. Laced up before the dawn in pursuit of early grace. Donned lace and leather, canvas; retraced her own ………steps (backward) ……….barefoot …….in sand. She’s landed sharp, and soft, and … Continue reading

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Holding Only Breath

.. Ah, silence. The greatest violence the morning alarm, the storm of only her own unquiet skin. A single-serve sun also rises, and she swallows it whole just to sing its shine. The melting moon her only concern, …….caller, companion. … Continue reading

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Magi(c)

… We spin in gold and frank, incensed words; mirth. Myth. Ribbons of phrase, ink-stained paper hearts, the wrappings and trappings of pain and passion. We fashion our -selves in tissue-thin jars, the scars that come in silver moon slivers … Continue reading

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Curiosity

… It’s the sulfur snuff of a candle burning (out) at both ends, the lull -aby hum of pickle-piqued breeze. Magenta-smooth, it can also kill a cat (just like that) in less than 38 prickly (tick-tock)  seconds, ……………………flat. .. Mish … Continue reading

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Communing with Clouds

Oh, there are plenty o’ people in her (neighborhood) (house) (circle) (face) , plenty of noisy cacophonous ……….(crowds)  traces of business and busy-ness and messy-mess and who and where and when and why. But she’s an introverted soul, with a … Continue reading

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Darker Sides

Better go back home, where you belong. – The Temptations    .. .. Follow me, I know a place to run; a place to leave our hearts and tuck away. See that moon? There’s a small child on the other … Continue reading

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Spangled Dragon

.. She longs for sparkles and streamers and shine, the fine fine sheen of knowing. The flowing of a tail that shimmers in the setting sun. She sings in syllables of fire. Hums embers loose, crimson fireflies etching skyward. She … Continue reading

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Irony is the skin on a smallish dragon

.. Or slate. Or steely gray. Yes? Perhaps no. Perhaps know her name before you define her, or the state of her skin. Maybe get to know a girl before you claim she breathes fire. Ay, me, but you’ve a … Continue reading

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