An 'Arkquain Swirl' whitetrimmingsbright againstsnowy landscape;sumptuously cladgraceful Lady of the Snows;understated coy smile knowsshe's untouchable;floral fur-trimmedcape and muffoffsetherscarletberibbonedbrimmed fancy hat;watery wintrywastes draw away to allowher between bent laden boughsas she floats through them;blood circulatesclose to thesurfaceofrefinedfine cheekbonesflushed like red dress;heavy horizonswelcome home native daughter;untouched by weight of watersshe absorbs the scene;knowing pools darkunblinkingtake itin Twiglets… Continue reading Lady, or: The snows
A Choka ground temperature at depths greater than ten feet stays relatively constant through the course of time please bury me deep in Earth's comfortable bosom a warm welcoming spa-like decomposition muscles loosening lying horizontally limbs and back at rest and still mine to enjoy finally Choka? The most intricate Japanese Poetry form is the… Continue reading After, or: My time
A 'Waltz wave' poem Cha- os gov- erns all as- pects of world- ly ex- ist- ence. This weighs heavi- ly on mere mor- tals. So, we convince our- selves of gods, lest we fall com- plete- ly a- part ‘What do you see’ Prompt #160 For Sadje’s weekly #WDYS prompt, she offered the photo… Continue reading Oh, God! or: Oh, man!
Blank verse in iambic heptameter 80 doesn't even burn, but I'm drinking 94, feeling its sting against my throat before the smooth warmth spreads; soothing, relaxing; though nothing like the pounding, scalding water on my shoulders, back and buttocks just earlier. Sitting in my yeti hide fleece pajamas afterwards, I thought to describe the sensation… Continue reading Kentucky, or: Jerusalem
A 'Waltz wave' poem your tiny head against my shoulder; your heart- beat against my breast; your body swaddled securely to keep you safe and warm; ever wrapped in my mama- love ‘What do you see’ Prompt #152 For Sadje’s weekly #WDYS prompt, she offered the photo below as inspiration for writers to produce art.… Continue reading Mother, and: Child
A haibun It was not so long ago that I aimed for the stars. Perhaps just over a decade ago... but who's counting? Today, I'm at a secure job that provides me & my family health and life insurance, along with other benefits. In another year's time I'll be eligible for dental and catastrophic health… Continue reading Ground control, or: Major Tom
A haibun It's the little things. The new set of chairs that replaced the ones we'd bought used years ago, which were falling apart. The wireless keyboard and mouse that are both so comfortable to use and easily pack away. The container of wasabi dried peas that I've been noshing on. Today, I'm working from… Continue reading Plastic, or: Fantastic
Poetry Partners #12 A poem by Selma Martin of 'Selma' A worthy cause, start the hunt for a calm place to inhabit merits more than trends to uphold untethered from modish habits But who, pray tell, marooned us here like beached whales needing assistance? How to find the point of return; woke to the sacred… Continue reading The hunt, or: The soul sea