Tag: Poetry
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5 August: #SOCS Pick a Number
05.07.23 Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Pick a Number Does anyone remember Bo Derek? She was a 10. I’m not; I am a 9. That’s my number. It’s a numerology thing, nothing to do with hokus pokus, numbers I mean, actually numbers are my potrzebie. Do you know that word “potrzebie”? My best and truest friend,…
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4 August: A Quinzaine Poem
A Quinzaine Poem: 04.07.23 Squirrel sitting on the lawnAre you watching meWatching you Bumblebees at the thistlesAre you still thirstingFor nectar Robin in the tree singingMay I sing with youA duet The garden is marking timeDoes it see its endLike I do Written for Lisa’s Quinzaine: 7.5.3 (1st line statement, 2-3rd question the 1st line) and Ragtag…
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4 August: Summer Sand and Sea (rewritten)
I think I’ll put this through the “refinery” and trim it down. The “refinery” is Joseph Harker’s method of stripping fluff out a piece of writing, and restructuring its symmetry. Summer Sand and Sea I.The suna solitary child shiningon the sea II.Its waves of tousled curls pourout little shells III.A breezeof liquid wind to breatheupon…
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3 August: The July Journal 19.7.23
Wednesday, 19 July: Tiled Rooftops Arrivederci Italia.This is Bourgogne,and it’s about wine today. Vineyards, and wooden presses.Dust-flaked villages,and yellow stone houseswith shutters closed on white heat. But I want to see Beaune.Next time, he says.Which meansI’m not going to see Beaune. Arrived.Dijon.The city.Not the mustard. Nevertheless,I plan to buy mustard.Lots of it.For not seeing Beaune.…
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2 August: The July Journal 21.7.23
Date: 21.7 Over therein the midst of wind turbines,where a field of greenis glad of rain,and a line of treesform strokes on the horizon,stand a few Charolaise facingaway from the weather. It’s Van Gogh.His fields,an infinity of sunflowers,heavy heads, downcastbrown and drying in the sun.His fieldsbaled hay, bronzed and amberunder coiffed clouds. A farmer.His wife.A…
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1 August: White Horse
White Horse And he doesn’t even like horses. Moreover, he hates that he’s called the horseman without a horse. He backs away from its rising height over him. This white horse rearing up, its voice of thunder is a shockwave, and the guys are sitting over there on a railing watching the whole scene play…
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1 August: A Cherita Poem, Napoleon’s Face
A Cherita Poem: Napoleon’s Face I saw Napoleon’s face today. A statue. Stone blackas any onyx starless night. Eyes closed to us.A sign read, Do Not Touch.No need. I knew he’d be cold. Written for Paul’s Wombwell Rainbow #poeticFormsChallenge . A cherita consists of a single stanza of a one-line verse, followed by a two-line verse, and then…
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31 July: A Cherita Poem About Cut Flowers
A Cherita Poem Form: Cut Flowers Cut like angel wings a handful of flowersin a jam jar tumblingas if from an arbour,perfumed and unbridled. Written for Paul’s Wombwell Rainbow #poeticFormsChallenge . A cherita poem consists of a single stanza of a one-line verse, followed by a two-line verse, and then finishing with a three-line verse. It can be…
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30 July: A Cadralor Poem
30.7.23 – A Cadralor Poem: Reading Stones I.I’m reading their stones,the old dead,remembering thoseI never knew. II.Her name is May.2-months. Sweet childwho never cried.Delicate as spring. III.Here lays Captain Morton,stood on a curving prow.Troubled by a cargo,the sea took him down. IV.A fisherman at rest,in rain and morning air.A squalling tangle of nets,his lights still…
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