Poetry Partners #186 A poem by Thomas Kutzli of 'remainsoftheday' EPIGRAPH: As a nation, we are dreadfully impressed by noise. The loud and compelling, even if the blatant, is sure to attract our attention. -Amy Lowell (1874 – 1925) The table black and shiny Moiré in your eyes And this constant humming An invisible ship?… Continue reading Scythe, or: Scalpel
A rhyming sestina Some people don't like the word Jew A label that fits me like comfy shoe Jews were murdered and made into glue Regarded as less than beasts at a zoo Blamed for both the plague and the flu In the end, though, it's the haters who stew Jewish cholent is a magical… Continue reading Rubber, or: Glue
A collection of 'lanturnes' wesing ofour nation'ssurvival asoneonepeopleunitedagainst Russianraperapeour landviolateour existenceforceforceshall nottriumph hereon our forebears'landlandsustainsthe cultureof ancestorshomehomedemandscommitmenton all our partsnownowour troopsmust withstandthis disastrouswarwarwas wagedupon usstill we remainfreefreeto livewithout fearUkrainianswe #TankaTuesday This collections of lanturne poems was written as an ekphrastic response to the image below, which I offered to Colleen Chesebro for her weekly Tanka… Continue reading Ukrainians we, or: Survival as one
Pronunciation mess Word sauce Соус ➜ soh-oos My own ingredients ferment Betray identities Sharpen distinctions Burn my tongue Соул ➜ soh-ool I'm bottled, jarred Spilled out onto the Shattered shards of broken empires Soh-ool music swallows Mispronunciations mine Add flavor Thicken the soh-oos with Some plot d'Verse poetics: What’s bubbling? At d'Verse, writers were encouraged… Continue reading Соус, or: Соул
Sevenling (I am such) I am such a friggin' Jew; circumcised; born in and residing in the capital of Israel; always, always walking around with a yarmulke. I don't compose poetry in Hebrew; I don't hate; I have difficulty believing in my One True God, let alone in any foreign ones. I am just as… Continue reading Circumcised, or: Barely
Poetry Partners #123 'My Eyes', a 'Quadrille' (44 words) by Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris of 'Gypsie's Writings, Musings, Quotes & Poetry' Laying alone in my recliner hard to move now My eyes see everything yet my eyes see nothing at all Vivid memories bombard my mind while I can’t remember what day it is Still my… Continue reading My eyes, or: My true self
A 'Septolet' War has forever transformed Ukrainians. Ukrainians now want to expunge everything Russian from Ukraine. Septolet? The Septolet is a poem consisting of seven lines containing fourteen words with a break anywhere in between the two parts. Both parts deal with the same thought and create a picture.
Poetry Partners #117 'The Real Me', a poem by Hadizat Motherconfessor I munch burgers of creativity, I don't care. I give credit, I don't hate. I fiddle with the nipples of life, I don't stick. I pay serving waitress, I don't free. I sail ocean distress. I am bullet; I harm! I don't kill. Hadizat… Continue reading The real deal, or: The rizzle dizzle
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