Transfer, or: Orientation

A 'Found Poem' Based on Peter Schneider's poem 'Lost in Plain Sight' I wake up, waiting, wanting to speak my mind, I think. Why do I have this empty cup clenched in my right hand? To fill in with... name, date? I greet my neighbor (isn't her name Susan?) with trivia, punch line. She smiles… Continue reading Transfer, or: Orientation

Humanity, or: Humaneness

A quadrille In the form of four Elevenies life flourishing richly throughout human lands inhabitants accustomed to peace complacency planes flying fleetly imperceptible to eagles barking dogs pulling leashes foreshadowing whistling bombs dropping silhouetted against azure people rushing towards cellars blasts ash covering earth carried by currents only scorching wind's breathing apocalypse Elfchen Row Words… Continue reading Humanity, or: Humaneness

Dreams, or: Stanzas

An emoji 'free verse' (best viewed: on a computer screen & not in WordPress Reader) In a moment, 🧗‍♂️ it would be over again and he'd 🧗‍♂️ have to start over in the next... no, not this time. Grunting, 🤏 hand over hand, he scaled the 🧗‍♂️ uneven face of 🤏 the dream cliff, fingers… Continue reading Dreams, or: Stanzas

Poems, poems, poems, or:

EPIGRAPH: In the end, we'll all become stories.-Margaret Atwood (b. 1939) my every verse my every line my every word: death is only the beginning of countless stories; life, reality's only limitation, albeit a foggy one, but death, a veritable wellspring of stories to tell around the table impart to our children to fool ourselves… Continue reading Poems, poems, poems, or:

Those asteroids, Sir, they’re…

d’Verse prosery "Captain, we're exiting hyperdrive just outside of the Milky Way! I'll patch us through to Grand Lord… Wait… Where…" "Where are we, Lieutenant Mark? There's nothing here but an asteroid field. Check your coordinates!" "Yes, Sir! Let's see… 71.5 by 199.5 degrees… I... don't understand it, Sir. The galaxy should be just… Oh,… Continue reading Those asteroids, Sir, they’re…

Balagan, or: *Sigh*

My 1st Cadralor In the form of 5 Kimos countless Russian and English children's books; last week's newspaper; a child's fairy robe on the couch nearly to the ceiling, six shelves, volumes of Jewish texts; mementos; tchotchkes; toys; games; clutter including chairs, one-third of the room for the wooden table, strewn with laptop; wires; watch;… Continue reading Balagan, or: *Sigh*

From above, or: What lies beneath

A Quadrille In the form of a Haibun I found myself tempted to compose a prose poem about the nearly immutable nature of stone. However, my mind wriggled, squirming away from me. Shield limpets, keel worms, snails and other creatures captured my imagination. only lift the rocks to uncover teeming life changelessness belied d’Verse Quadrille… Continue reading From above, or: What lies beneath

Am, Are, or: Always

no doors in walls to Keep out fear just: Look and See, but no walls there... once structures, now Convulsing lines there's Is, there's Was, less timeless rhymes no what, no I, but only Am Am Flail for textures; Whisper, "damn..." unbearable, Am's Feels Are Galled Walled in, Crawling, no space at all! nouns swiftly… Continue reading Am, Are, or: Always