Looking forwardone eye lined with kohlstelliferous & blinkyto fires plannedbonesto be broken in the new year
Momentnot to be forgotin fact whole worldsare builtupon its importSmall girlsits alonein a church vestibulewhile adult women chatadjacentOh justleave her thereshe’s poutingLeave her aloneshe needs to learnSmall girlalone in a vestibuleto be forgotas women’s laughterfades
For Karin’s prompt to the Real Toads: TAKE TWO AND SING
(Using the words “be forgot” from Auld Lang Syne)
Introducing Heart Container
Brand-new from ALL CAPS PUBLISHING
Earnest Poems by Yours Truly
or order a signed copy from me,
adorned with hearts + flowers + stuff
(delivery after Christmas)
I'm so excited I can barely contain myself!
Energywelcomingslack water stillnesseasy tideprecedinggravitational fancywashing clout to shore
Seven lines for Kerry’s form challenge: IN A GRAIN OF SAND
O Come All Ye Poetry Faithful
(and Those of Little Faith)
to the Thirsty Mind in South Hadley!
Hear Ye, Hear Ye! THIS Tuesday 12/15!
Love ismorning chatswhile youare still asleepbut conversantPlans for the daywhen we return againwhat’s for dinnerall of whichwill be repeatedwhen youare actually awakeLove isnot taking advantagemaking lists for laterall the mundane shitrepeatedthis morningtomorrow morningevery dayLove is
Quite a pair for Flash 55 Plus in the Imaginary Garden.
Manysavorymorsels awaitpatient tonguesWagging’sfrowned upon herePrizes bestowedon the duncewho keeps his mouth shut
For Bjorn's weekend prompt to the Real Toads: WAITING
And here it is, #30 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans. Whew! Not too late to celebrate this achievement with me by making a contribution of any amount. Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement throughout this month. And now it's Monday morning, carry on and have a badass week, friends! Scribble poems like no one is watching! xoxo
Writingby the numberin a chaos of kidsand life and newsand of course catsseems impossible.Wouldn’t it be greatto poem by number--metaphor here,enjambment over there,or fill-in-the-blanklike Mad Libs(no adjectives)and voilà!Your point is made,beautifully expressed.
All done, well done, finis.
#28 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans! Running out of steam over here, uh oh.
Swallowingin the din of inhumanityabout women and doctors and workerswho deserve to be gunned downfamilies who are turned awayto certain death in plastic boatsbecause they threaten our way of lifethere’s so much to protect herecheap electronicsplastic shit and freedom friesthe right to be gunned down by copsor lunaticseach one is somebody’s heroI’m speechlesspowerlessretreating for solace in a book of verseremembering how naively I thoughtour children would enjoy more freedomsI don’t know what else to write
#27 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans
They saywhen one window shutsanother openswhen one passesa new soul is bornbut we comecryinginto this cold worldaloneas we leaveand it’s too coldfor that open windowafter darktoo lonely for tears
For Fireblossom’s prompt in the Imaginary Garden: DREAD
I feel a rant coming onabout how entitlementdrips and spreads and sullieseverything. Today it’s about guyswho think their stones are so bigthat they can say any damn thingto anybody. Even to a womanwho says I don’t like youand don’t talk to me and stopcontacting me. Even that woman,or especially that woman.Entitled bastards sure knowhow to sully up lovely things,I’ll give you that much. Nice going.Now fuck off, entitled bastard.No doubt tomorrowI’ll have a new subject for ranting.
Whew, that feels better. Sometimes this shit just writes itself. Nonetheless I'm counting this as #24 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans!
Morning breaks on crooked arm,From dreams I resist sun.(Wake, wake, you slugabed,Work needs to be done.)Very greatly, lassitudeTethers me to bed.(But without your work-a-dayChildren won’t be fed.)In a slumber well intactFortunes visit me.(To collar me in dream-landThey beg on bended knee.)Sleep-dismissing day and work,Spirits drag me down.(You’ve no use for daylight.Sink, sink and drown.)Last-ditch fury, roil the quiltsOf my tender sleep.(May as well stop fighting.Laugh, laugh the deep.)
Yesterdayour veins ran with itIn an houranxiety will sticklike leeches on the brainRight nowlet’s invite the plaqueto settle inclog our valveswith the milk of our marriageConstrictConserveColor
#22 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans. For Margaret's Play It Again prompt to the Real Toads featuring Bjorn's TIME TRAVEL
What if the proper etiquettefor thismy denouement,requires obnoxious panderingaccepting reprimandInstead of shufflingdownturned eyesthe earth to glare uponI’ll rise in solidarityand be already gone