A 'Waltz Wave' night after night we stand; lanterns turned towards that arras of far-flung faint memories flickering beyond the bounds of consciousness, fainter still in search- lights What Do You See? #188 For WDYS, Sadje offers us this image by EvgeniT (Pixabay) of a person holding a lantern in their right hand, standing alone,… Continue reading Flickers, or: Faint memories
An American sentence: I carefully trim my beard, recalling why Papa didn't want one. What's an 'American Sentence'? Allen Ginsberg, inventor of the American Sentence, felt that the haiku didn’t work as well in English. Ginsberg decided to remove the line structure of the haiku, maintaining the requirement of 17 syllables total. He felt that… Continue reading Smooth, or: Bearded
A haibun Growing up, Israel was where I went with my parents to visit our extended family; I always felt comfortable here as a boy. Still, despite my having been born in Jerusalem, Israel was not home. On my visits, I felt myself an American Jewish tourist. Having now lived in Israel for upwards of… Continue reading Rosemary, or: Za’atar
Poetry Partners #184 'Happier', a poem by Komaljeet Kaur of 'flavoured poetry' There is a day that wears out tryna recall memories of gray shades on the borderlands where midday moon was buried. It excites, agitates, sedates that sand princess who rode over a unicorn to curse that transparent night that hid the moon's scars.… Continue reading Memories, or: Over the moon’s gray scars
Poem: Centuries older were you Who reduced everyone to an ignorant child. As the sun rose everyday, At my doorstep you arrived With fresh tidings of Novel ideas and events, Of deaths and horrifying stories. Man’s truest chronicler were you Who told stories the way they were Without clouds or endless alleys. In you, did… Continue reading REBLOG: ‘Lost Luxury’ by Deepthy
Poem: Pale sun glow, winter solstice light fades. The shortest day—darkness descends, wraps me in a blanket womb of warmth next to you. Frosty morning squinty-sunshine breaks over the treeline. Hot coffee, dark brewed, reminds me of the scent of rich fertile fields. Together, we drink to face another day. The calm before the storm.… Continue reading REBLOG: ‘Weathering the Storm of Life’ by Colleen Chesebro
Poem: And all we hear are tolling bells telling fortunes, wishing wells well-wishers washed in pools of tears all eyes and ears all eyes and ears Are turned towards the funeral the heart has had its coronal* as silence ends the reign of years the sky rains tears the sky rains tears We listen at… Continue reading REBLOG: ‘Tolling Bells’ by Ingrid Wilson
A 'Wiggle Waggle' poem Never much cared for fashion; Never thought to wear a handkerchief; A casual guy, None took me for fly; Reflection and thought were my passions- Inner matters of the heart. My father's eyes weren't dry When he tucked you into my jacket- Performed this action With feigned dispassion; I knew him… Continue reading Feigned dispassion, or: The eve of my wedding
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