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Tag Archives: sky poems
when the tree falls (in the forest) for the sky do you and i hear it, across all these miles? i know notof timbre falling ,but the stars are full of static electricity and the moon is all crescent cling and zing. ::I’ve been gleefully out of … Continue reading
:: Evening the score the playing field our un-fisted, twisted hands, we stand in awe of sky of star-sparked why of poker-faced moon. In the end, odds are, we’re even. ::
The best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids’ flutter which says we are for each other – E.E. Cummings The earth laughs in flowers. – Ralph Waldo Emerson Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box…Edie Brickell :: dandelion fluff … Continue reading
bic, some rhythm’d pen -sive soul etching cloudwords to ivory sky. landlocked mermaid, dry scales thirsting for ocean, ink. thinking; thanking. drinking in the rum-bled scribbled scrambled song of some language i no longer speak. i am tossing letters (spaces) to the breeze and hoping some bright bird catches them … Continue reading
if you bend low, i can stand on your should-ers and stretch up up up on my tiptoes to reach Orion’s belt and fly. ::written for poetic asides November chapbook challenge.
, ‘it’s the color of my wedding dress!’ she saysand he always fires back ‘periwinkle?’ and there’s a wink built right in and then she says ‘cornflower blue.’ and after 22 years it’s something that never gets old, always new, this laughter borrowed over blue. :: written for poetic asides November … Continue reading
pleasecome, sit with me for awhile and try to let your hate be ruined by this vast forgiving sky. written for poetic asides November chapbook challenge
Even After All this time The Sun never says to the Earth, “You owe me.” Look What happens With a love like that, It lights the whole sky. ― Hafiz .. … We wonder if we’ll ever get the hang of … Continue reading
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