Tag Archives: tiny stories in poem pockets

hope {and other smallish things that sing} 

Posted on April 12, 2022 by whimsygizmo

she tucks it in pockets and lockets pressed near her heart, jumpstarted by its tiny zing. there’s a fleck of fuzz in there, too. a baby stone of azure blue. a crumb of sand. a strand  of scarlet string. a wee adieu. a fewtiny buttonsand … Continue reading →

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the first grimace of a fractured moon

Posted on April 5, 2021 by whimsygizmo

has us grinning, too and fused to the dancefloor of this star-stung sky. 

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a poem

Posted on April 27, 2020 by whimsygizmo

.. is a massive thought sometimes caught in a tiny box.     …. in april we poem.       

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pocket change

Posted on April 26, 2020 by whimsygizmo

.. let’s stuff some hope in there, and some kindness, too, a little sun -shine and some promises that just might fight these denim blues. we’ll need some unity and a quiet few who are willing to break through and … Continue reading →

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Dragon Squall

Posted on October 9, 2018 by whimsygizmo

She tumbles until she has nothing left but the rise and fall of sky as breath , and a mouth scarred thick with stories.   .. .. twiglets #97.     

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cues

Posted on May 30, 2018 by whimsygizmo

.. sometimes they spark if you hit them just right, let them bump and grind, find their way along felt. we talk and chalk a few things up to strong drinks and weakness, the way the tables have turned, the … Continue reading →

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dubious she

Posted on March 22, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. longs for sea; quills salty feathered songs in wee poem pockets.   ..  

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birdsong

Posted on March 21, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. long my waiting into morning hope, a hum of blossomed breeze   ..

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Five tiny stories in poem pockets

Posted on January 18, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. Nothing bitter. No coffee, no cold -heart stare, no chairs without comfort. No root. No soot. Nothing batter. No waffles. No pan -cakes, no average. No pitch black night with softball stars. Nothing bit her. Not the love bug … Continue reading →

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Pocketing Blue

Posted on January 16, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… Okay, the horizon’s gone a little murky and the air -waves are a cacophony of argumentation and delineation and falsification and hate. We debate and we try to satiate our hunger with happenstance instead of hope. We grope around … Continue reading →

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