Mantra It It is It is wrong It is wrong to It is wrong to blame It is wrong to blame someone It is wrong to blame someone when It is wrong to blame someone when I It is wrong to blame someone when I feel It is wrong to blame someone when I feel…
Circular Poetry, more star shaped with comet motion but the more I think about it It's like pushing the puddle in welding add more rod, steady heat, melts steel, keeps moving the bead Good Morning, Mr. Tangent. How are you today? Ready to walk with me off the beaten path into the nebulous brush of…
Tofutti peanut butter chocolate syrup A sleeping, walking child she took four steps today I completed my sonnet I completed my collage I walked outside in the daytime and didn't have a panic attack. We buy our house tomorrow I will have a studio again I will have peace again I'm not running away, I'm…
Day Ten: Prompt Future, Form Sonnet, Device Chiasmus Eve's Period, The Period of Eve Waiting for the inevitable pain of being fertile (my own fertility is being a pain) makes me think of the permutations of Eve depicted as she, who caused the fall of man Original Sin in the Christian Bible's root was the…
I have got to take another photo of this before I post this on the Writing 201:Poetry Commons. I had some technical difficulties. Sometimes when I take a photo with my phone I can actually see the details of the image. Then I bluetooth (yeah, I turned it into a verb) it to my laptop,…
I like to play with words. If you read the tree stems GONE WITH THE WIND A QUINZAINE FOR THE PRINCE AND THE TROLL GARDEN by THE CALL OF THE CUP OF GOLD MEN WITHOUT These are partial titles of rare books that I cut out of a discarded book on collecting rare books. The…
Day 9 Prompt-Landscape, Form-Found Poem, Device-Enumeratio
Note:This is a payday candybar poem. Chunky, salty sweet but has protein in it. It can't be that bad. Day 8 Prompt Drawer Form Ode Device Apostrophe I owed my class an Ode upon which my back is permanently bowed My poetry drawer swollen shut is in a terrible rut no words, no poems, no…
Yesterday, was not an emergency, though I posted with urgency the prose poem describing what her fingers crush and mash She, cleaned and sated, I couldn't have waited then to my job I did dash. ----------------------------- Day 7 Part Two Prompt: Finger Form: Prose Poem Device: Missing Assonance When first born they grip you with…
Writing 201: Poetry Prompt: fingers Form: Prose Poem Device: Assonance She mashes her fingers through the apple and food debris with abandon flipping, squealing, snorting, laughing until the tray is clean and the food all in her hair is a decoration of ornate resistance to the fact that she should now be asleep. She delicately…
Amanuensis Sobriquet-Reverie 