Tag Archives: stones unthrown

Building Permits

Posted on March 7, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. Let’s build ourselves a cobbled cottage by the appletini sea, a place for you and me to spill ourselves in ink and rain and salt. We’ll build it tall and wide of stones unthrown and river rock and fallen … Continue reading →

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Many stone steps, going somewhere soon.

Posted on February 22, 2017 by whimsygizmo

  .. We crave the cobbling of days, the ways that things unthrown might add up to some pathway, some intricate up. Some cup more than half full. Runneth over. We live in glass houses, under glass ceilings, grass roofs … Continue reading →

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Crum, Bling

Posted on February 9, 2017 by whimsygizmo

Give us cookies, shiny things. That we might leave a trail, might find our way back home. Give us stones unstacked and thrown only into sea, river rock turning water to power. Give us hours and stories. Smiles. A way … Continue reading →

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After All Those Evers

Posted on February 9, 2017 by whimsygizmo

  .. She sleeps , and her spun-gold tresses spindle down these cobbled castle walls. The feeling of gossamer against her skin, and a gentle mourning for fragile footwear. A half -bitten apple. A fading rose. A watchtower, the call … Continue reading →

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Breathing Room

Posted on February 1, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. Make a ceiling of this sky, indigo in all its glory. Embrace the bound -aries of this room, this infinite space, this place we’ve been given to inhale and exhale and grow to know our -selves, each other. Gather … Continue reading →

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Second Story

Posted on January 12, 2017 by whimsygizmo

This poem is the place I live. It’s a shanty by the sea, with a view of forever. It’s a well -weathered cottage dotting a crimson sky. It’s a penthouse suite, a one -room apartment, a periwinkle chalk cardboard box … Continue reading →

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The Year of Writing Dangerously

Posted on April 14, 2016 by whimsygizmo

Give her an audacious heart. A quiet spot for noisy bones. A stone to throw softly or un ………-throw. Give her the sting of her own salt, a stum -bled place to start, …a slant of sun a nook of … Continue reading →

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Climbing More Than Sycamores

Posted on April 7, 2016 by whimsygizmo

… If we trace our history in trees, I guess the sky would be our home – skeleton limbs raised to moon’s cold stone. Will they etch it on my tombstone that I saw the world in t(h)rees? – ocean, … Continue reading →

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Gingham, Granite, and Grace

Posted on March 8, 2016 by whimsygizmo

  .. Grin me up a giggle, a wiggle, a gaggle of geese, a grunge rift with a grim twist; the gist of it, with goodness gracious glee. Grin(d) me down to gathered grounds, ghostly sounds of groan and moan; … Continue reading →

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Heavy

Posted on April 15, 2015 by whimsygizmo

… He ain’t, you know (my brother). He’s just another light in this diamond encrusted sky. So much depends, really, and what he’s tucked in his pockets on any given Tuesday (stones unthrown, foreign coins, sticks of dynamite, ticks of … Continue reading →

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