Tag Archives: the one with all the prompts

Have nightshirt, will travel. {Mr. Midnight & Mrs. Moon make the most of free will}

  Once upon a time, they danced. Graced the stars from A to Z, poemed in tercets. An opening act of smile and frown, they dip and weave in all dog star sirius-ness, watch their reflections pen prime haiku in … Continue reading

Posted in Poetic Asides Chapbook Challenge 2019, scribbling storms | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Art of Going West toward Ottawa with a Complete Forgery of Vermeer’s ‘The Little Street’ in Our Trunk, After the Rain Stops Once Again

{for Grandma Moses} . Don’t stop when we get to the border, no matter how shaken , stirred we are by this heisted hum. Don’t mourn that moon behind us, or this star-scarred sky, or that sinister shade of blue. … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

One More Time for the People in the Back

{a remix} The moon’s in a mood, (imagine her wild, midnight -maroon) shaky-swoon-spooned over sturdy skinned knees, driven breeze. This is her hour of burning hunger, quiet storm. She’s ivory sea, and I can’t quiet see her center. Praise these … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Feeling fractured, not quite full

(A praised day found) . Please forgive me for the song that loops around us now, this quiet separation from the ……….stars. We raise our tiny voices to the sky – doodler of dragons, an unsolvable equation of puberty and … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

i can’t imagine her wild

{mood ring: forgiveness, and other disasters} i. midnight-maroon, for her darkest hour swoon, her great craving for protest and anti -hate, war. ii. gun metal gray for her weary worn heart and its shaky veins, brave un -broken beat. iii. … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

She’s found herself in ink and sky

.. , and silent salt. The squawking cry of hungry gulls. The broken praise of trees. She’s on her knees in dark -est hour, bone-tired and waiting. Forgive her, Father (Son, and wholly long-loved ghost); at most, she’s brave. She’s … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

This poem is carrying a sign  

that says it’s busy, working its ast -*erisk off, worth its salt. It’s tired of being underpaid for scribbling storms and pen-painting darkest hour dawns. This poem is highly motivated and power hungry. It is glorious in its gregarious -ness, … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Dance of the Dissident Refrain

.. This poem is carrying a sign – hell, no, we won’t go! and finding herself lost in the dark hours of the morning with a grumbling stomach and a busted volume switch. Which way is against the grain? She … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Anti-Love Letter

{Dear John, I’ve moved on.}   You might want to sit down for this, oh most distinguished one. By the time you find this note, this mid -night rote, I will be gone, lost among the stars. See these, my … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | 4 Comments