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Tag Archives: tiny poems
if you had 8 arms, you’d understand
(i think),why i must go with the flow of the ocean and all that ink. :: written for poetic asides November chapbook challenge.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged November Chapbook Challenge 2020, octopi, octopus, sea poems, seas the day, tiny poems
1 Comment
total loss for words
The sky’s a sheer black slate of broken stars, a cold moon holding her tongue. .. An American Sentence. {in april we poem.}
of rearview, and regret
… this poem wishes she was just a little longer slower stronger more open more hopin’ or maybe just closer than she appears. .. in april we poem.
the unknown tomorrows of smallish dragons
blurrrrsday again, and the be -fuddlement continues. we know not what these hours might hold, nor how we shall knit them together to make a quilt of promise. but still we don our brightest tutus and most audacious ………………..clouds, as … Continue reading
blue-green marbled mayhem
.. we’re r e e l i n g. .. she’s ………healing. .. in april, we poem. no matter what.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged #inaprilwepoem, April PAD 2020, april poems, healing earth, pandemic poems, poemdemic, tiny poems, world view
1 Comment
Be Right Bach
… the stars are calling, a sonata -storm of sharp and shifting sky, and I am all fugue and fear. But there’s a cantata playing in the next universe, my dear, and we’re invited. .. Written for Poetic … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Bach, cantata, composers, fugue, shine, sonata, stars, tiny poems
1 Comment
lights
.. fireflies dancing on fir branches; a fairy gala of stars. .. Me n my Shawna are penning tiny poems all december long. Wanna play?
syrup sky
.. she breathes …………….oh, my under waffled clouds. .. I soooo wish I could take credit for the title phrase, but it’s Misky’s twiglet today. Come play!
Posted in twiglets
Tagged aching sky, micro poems, micropoetry, sky poems, syrup sky, tiny poems, twiglets
2 Comments
Seeing ourselves in raindrops
.. We watch the rain reflecting all our falling, puddling all our pain. .. In November, we poem. Sometimes, a day late.
Posted in Poetic Asides Chapbook Challenge 2019, scribbling storms, storms
Tagged micro poems, PAD Challenge 2019, rain, storms, tiny poems
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