Tag Archives: writing on writing

standing in the middle of all this deep dark sky

, the world comes at us, fast and fierce and long and loud. we lower our voices, raise our (s)words.   ..  

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Weapons of Mass Distraction

Shiny object, laundry pile, random pic to make her smile. Running squirrel or wayward breeze, playin’ puppy, ruffled trees. Dirty dishes, diapers, kids; Tupperware…can’t find the lids. Kitten purr and yummy snacks, legos loose in stacks and stacks. Online news … Continue reading

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little word freaks

.. we squeaks in syllables, speaks in rhythm and rhyme. we knows how to blows a phrase about in breeze. we sees ourselves as scribblers, ink-dribblers of divine. we frees the words from white, and writes our wrongs. we sirens … Continue reading

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Elegy

{for the trees}  . Forgive us our sins, this ripping of your skins, your purloined pulp our great white hope. You promise much in your alabaster space, force us to face our brightest fears; woo us with the wild delights … Continue reading

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just a lone poem

  ……………………………………………………,  ……………………………………………………plowing snow, finding her way ……………………………………………………………………………………..through the storm.     :: In April, we poem. It’s what we do.     

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a muse, me

, colossal in the awakening of my own un -flat skin, husk ……………………-y voice of silence. these schemes of vein and sinew sky sting a phrase to page, ……………………a transferred why.   .. Prompted by Poetic Asides.        … Continue reading

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where we left off

.. they scoffed at us for swallowing that sun -flower dream, for holding our breaths in the snow. we’ve gathered so much more than loose-leaf scenes; we know these syllables might just stand on their own. and so we pick … Continue reading

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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

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Utter a Muddle

.. S(p)ring a silly song, be-fuddle me a muddy-muse, so we can s(t)ring along. Cuddleme a cloud-phrase, huddleup in hiccup-daze; hunkerdown in puddle-praise, zipcrunchleap a poem. Fa-La-La a lullaby(e), fall into a murmured sky. Ink. Don’t think. And don’t ask why. … Continue reading

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RE:Spondees

.. So a strophe and a spondee walk into a bar (all widdershins & collywobbles); and the dactyl’s all like, Iamb thirsty, and the other two know just what to do, so they get ’im a drink to ghazal. (And … Continue reading

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