Category: AI Art
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2508: Six Sentence Poem
They Left This morning four beeslay quietlyon the patio stones. not sleeping. the sunhad simply askedtoo much of them. I carried each oneto the shade, where lavenderstill remembersword for word,their names. I’d rather believethey’ve gone somewhere cooler,where foxglovesnever wilt, and cloverkeeps flowering. somewherewhere no beeneed choosebetween thirstand sunlight. Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story Poetry…
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2408: Journal of Thoughts
From a Sea-Salted Dock We wore black.Wore our pearlsand affection, spoke in whispered wordsthat left us tongue-tied. The sky watched, tasted our tears,and stirred our petrichor, calm-scentedour grey-fringed hair. We stood on a sea-salted dock,and released his ashesto the airon the coldest day February had ever seen. Fishing boats iced and rocking,frayed sails wind-stiff,and slapping…
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A Six: The Law of Finders
This “Framed Poem” is written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story, Poetry Slam on 27 August I had been content to sit and listen as one poet after another stepped into the small pool of light, when the woman at the microphone looked directly at me, smiled as though we had already shared some confidence, and…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman’s Waffle Iron Predicts the Future The waffle iron arrivesthrift-shop-worn and hissing. Its hinges creak like gypsy’s bones,its non-stick grids etched with symbolsthat might be Nordic runes. The old woman pours batter, and the first prophecy bubbles up:“BEWARE THE 3RD TUESDAY OF NEXT WEEK.”She flips it, and squints:“Also, your cat is definitely plotting…
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2208: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem Tuesday:wind rushed the sparks. a snap,and combustionof sun-baked grass. it’s the scent of charreddried herbs.smoke bittingbright, and mineral dry. it’s to swallow upa dusty road —it’s a ghost coughlingering in the throat. sirenspluck at the airin two-tones. Friday:the fire has gonebefore I find it. only its mouthremains — black grass,the bitter greenof…
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2107: Everywhere Poems
The Dry Cleaners that Aren’t Anymore windows open,houses sharing conversation. heat rising,tyres on pavement, a steady whineof a vacuum cleaner — somewhere. “Bought pizza at the dry cleaners. You know, the one busted for drugs years ago,” says my neighbour, “ten minutes they claimed, turned out to be an hour — good pizza though.” “Opening…
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2008: Everywhere Poems
The Axe in the Cedar Block Dad chopped woodevery day,until he couldn’t. One day,he just walked awayfrom his axe. Left it in a block of cedar, sunk deeperthan his tremor. And there it stayed.For years. None of us strong enoughto free it. Eventuallythe blade rusted,angry-red, and the wooden handle fell off. Everywhere Poems don’t have…
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Ten Things of Thankful
1 and 2: Thankful that a few squash grew large enough to make Swedish-style (although Peder will say they’re Danish-style) pickles. These squash should be the size of a man’s shoe, but the heat and drought have reduced their size by half. I am thankful for what the summer gave us, and I’ll kick myself…
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1908: A Rum Dream Sestina
A Rum Dream Sestina The tide revealed more beachthan I’d ever seen. Dark, brimmingwaves drinking in sand, and a blackmood of clouds shrouding tearsand chunks of sky. Gusts takingto air our towels. Umbrellas. We two women clamped our knuckled twohands on our straw hats. The beachemptied. Holiday-makers ran, takingshelter in huts roofed with straw brims.A…
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1808: Dead Men Don’t Drown
Dead Men Don’t Drown: #3 (catch-up with all episodes here) Episode #3 The charity van arrives just after ten, driven by a narrow man with a nose sharp enough to open letters and eyes that know the profitable function of grief before I have finished carrying the boxes to the gate. He lifts the flaps…
