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GloPoWriMo Day 16: A Curtal Sonnet
Spill a Cloud of Cream This is the flower side of town.Spring pastels to tease your eyes,turn freezing blasts to prosper green.We sprout from winter’s frozen ground,into season’s route, and as months fly byyou’ll live with me, spring serene.Stay, and I’ll read you widow’s poems.We’ll linger long in a phantom dream,where yes, stars fall in…
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GloPoWriMo Day 15: Bring Me A Net
Or Bring Me A Net I want no part of rats‘though they’re hard to avoidrunning in gulliesand in the voids undergroundfound in riversswimming upstreamracing through schoolyardsand through holes in the fence.There are more rats than cats by far … Did you know Parisians ate rat in coq au vin, in beef bourguignon…
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GloPoWriMo Day 14: Back When
It’s what makes people say Back in my day, or I remember when, while forgetting that things were crap back then, back when a proper rain splattered mud as high as your thighs, and you’d ride your bike to school through rain and sleet, snow and hail just like the postie did, and the rear…
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GloPoWriMo Day 13: Ducks & Spring
I.How To Treat A Duck Don’t feed bread to ducksIt turns the water blooming muckLet ‘um eat weeds and bugsLet ‘um eat reeds and grubsBut don’t feed bread to ducks II.Now Spring Now springThis April lightFreed lifeIt calls to lively greenAwakened veinA cheering blushSpread broad on skies sereneBreathe in lean airOf violet scentsHear wild notes…
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GloPoWriMo Day 12: In the Style of Marvin Bell’s The Dead Man Poems
The Old Woman With No Cat (#2) 1. About The Old Woman and Shrinking the old woman with no cat grew up drinking milkmilk in a glass in pudding on cerealice cream cake chocolate with biscuits milk for growingand she grew long as a sentence and tall as a…
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GloPoWriMo Day 11: In the Style of Marvin Bell’s The Dead Man Poems
The Old Woman With No Cat #1 1. About the Power of Perspective the old woman with no catrests her right hand on her hip looks out the kitchen window and stares down the streetshe shifts her weight and rests her left hand on her hiplooks out the kitchen window …
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for Sunday Whirl Wordle #548
The Writing Game Poets plan out their liveslike three line haiku, drivento write away minutesand hours. They sit hunchedunder mote slivers of light,as the clock ticks on and chimes.They’re rhyming everyinspired syllable sent. And with the pen’s last breath,they drop, dry and spent.It’s a game, a set and a match. Sunday Whirl’s Wordle #548 Use the following…
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GloPoWriMo Day 10: Love & Taste
I.Once Once, right thereby the radio, which was on mostly in the morning for an hour, or when we left home so the house didn’t seem empty, and for most hours of the day, especially as old age set in, sleeping with sunlightpouring on her likea gentle massage, and right there,with a direct viewof the…
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GloPoWriMo Day 9: Nonet & Kimo
Two Poem Forms: Nonet and Kimo I.A Nonet Poem Hear night rain. You needn’t look, you knowits grey distance. You know laceworkthrough limbs. Twigs dripping armour.Dreams swept truant intosome occupied sky.Constellationsfrom elsewhere into soakednight. II. A Kimo Poem This morning’s air is empty of winterBird song pooling in my earsAnd green silkens the trees NaPoWriMo…
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GloPoWriMo Day 8: What They Never Tell You Could Fill a Book
What they Never Tell You Could Fill a Book (reading time: 00:01.14) It’s dawn.The moon laughs. My dogs are runningthrough the forest. For the lake.Gasping at air,chasing around chestnut trees.Around birch trees gleamingwhite in their own shadows. I play here.Climb trees.Feed magpies. Squirrels.Leave seeds for robins. AndI fall out of trees.Pretend to be a horse.Jump…
It's Still Life 