Category: Poetic Forms
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Day 12
Found Poetry from source: “Flowers In The Attic” by VC Andrews (pg 24-26 iBook version). There’s a milestone, pale and shallow, stars and breezes stretch to an end, and that’s what dead feels like. for PA’s Writers’ Digest PAD, Day 12 “The Art of” The Art of Time Wasting Time slipped off…
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Day 11
Found Poetry from source: “Flowers In The Attic” by VC Andrews (pg 32 iBook version). I. And finally into that ripe old age, we squeezed into poverty. We’re left alone, repossessed, none of this is ours. Life is a strange voice. for PA’s Writers’ Digest PAD, Day 11 “Dedication” II. The Colour…
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Quadrille #77
A Gril Named Emma I love her chatter, how she smells like pure white soap. Love the way her shiny bracelets chime like bells, and how she sweeps the room with her smile. We’re on the porch, playing Go Fish. She always has an ace up her sleeve. for Quadrille #77 including the…
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Day 8
Found Poetry from source: “Flowers In The Attic” by VC Andrews (pg 19-25 iBook version). Life is water. It floated out the door, hardly audible. But death, that’s bleak. A dark. It’s haunted. It didn’t scream or whisper, but still, its mask froze. That day went on and on. Still.And hollow. for…
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Day 7
two poems for PA’s Writers’ Digest PAD, Day 7 “Jealous” I. Brief Because life is brief, I wake early, and then late to bed. No real dread or regret do I give time. Not like a sunflower’s surrender or winter’s blackened apples. Life is luminous, a tide with a degree of knee-jittering uncertainty, and I…
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Day 6
Found Poetry from source: “Flowers In The Attic” by VC Andrews (pg 18 iBook version). Momma was fairy-tale fresh. A pearly knotted glide. She was small. And intimate. I need another bath. And a splashy dress. Also viewable at Tumbr for PA’s Writers’ Digest PAD, Day 6 “After (blank)“ Afterwards After we…
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Day 4
for PA’s Writers’ Digest PAD, Day 4 Painter’s Name About Constable This man wrote letters to his wife, signed them with endless love. That same hand loaded brushes with darkest weather, and nature’s trouble, slashed canvas with angry wind and grey contempt. His heart was nature’s fabric. His hands bodiless as he folded pigment greens…
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Day 3
Found Poetry from source: “Flowers In The Attic” by VC Andrews (pg 12-13 iBook version). The Facts Behind Icicles Momma was cut-velvet breathless, all diamond icicles — wouldn’t live two years. I know that now. It was early May, and she didn’t want whining, or crying. It would displace me. for PA’s…
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for Twiglet 120
There’s eternity in waves, as constant as a clock that never stops. A Ginsberg’s American Sentence for Twiglet #120
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For Wednesday’s Muse
Japanese Poetry Forms for Wednesday’s Muse #1 she is the branch furthest away from me now. just an occasional reminder, like a wind-flicker or a scent or a fold she left behind just before the trees went bare. For Wednesday Muse #1 poem form: mono no aware (mo.no-ah.way.ray) 5 lines depicting sadness at the passing of…
It's Still Life 