Loose threads, or: The needle

An Ovillejo Papa said men should not be swine; He drew a line; Papa said law differs from good; I understood; Papa said I should plan ahead; I lost the thread- Winging my way through life instead; I think back to all he would say, Increasingly... as I turn gray; He drew a line; I… Continue reading Loose threads, or: The needle

Woodwork, or: Far from the tree

A limerick Respected for both mind and might, The nails he hit lost every fight; So, where had I come from? His son who was all thumbs Knew only to dream and to write. ‘What do you see’ Prompt #154 For Sadje’s weekly #WDYS prompt, she offered the photo to the right as inspiration for… Continue reading Woodwork, or: Far from the tree

Generation, or: Conception

A Choka a letdown for him yet one more disappointment my shitty longhand he noted nonchalantly had much concerned him before he had concluded my generation needed but know how to type my shitty longhand would not be an obstacle like some of my other traits Choka? The most intricate Japanese Poetry form is the… Continue reading Generation, or: Conception

Ocean waves, or: Sharp wheezing

A haibun I remember looking up at the sun and clouds as I pulled my father's body across the ocean surface. We were wearing full scuba gear; Papa was barely breathing. Getting him to the jetty was the only viable option. high sun sears ocean waves aglow sharp wheezing d'Verse Haibun Monday: Look up! At… Continue reading Ocean waves, or: Sharp wheezing

Dark yellow, or: Jaded

Poetry Partners #97 'Dark Yellow', a poem by Kathy Labrum McVittie of 'writingpresence' Tomorrow she will die again Slip-sighing into eternity And I will catch my breath again At the shrill of the phone in the night. Tomorrow she will lie again, Becalmed in a sea of flowers And I won’t know How to cope… Continue reading Dark yellow, or: Jaded

His death, or: My life

An American Sentence: Papa's death led to my self-actualization as a writer. Another American Sentence I dare say Papa would be proud at how I've changed my life since he died. A third American Sentence I find myself writing less and less about Papa as days go by. What's an 'American Sentence'? Allen Ginsberg, inventor… Continue reading His death, or: My life

Closeted, or: Transparent

Poetry Partners #85 'Green', a poem by Mapule Somo of 'Let it reign' In the mourning after Everything in her closet Was pastured Growth adorned her frame I asked her once, 'How do you wear hope with such ease?' She smiled and said, You don't wear what you are 'So, what are you?' She asked… Continue reading Closeted, or: Transparent

Sky, or: Earth

A Waltz Wave An ekphrastic poem there stands 'tween sky and earth, amidst lush treetops, his muscled legs rooted 'neath heaven's soft cotton quilt, watchful, one intent upon the capture of living grace #TankaTuesday Click for full size The above Waltz Wave was written for Colleen M. Chesebro’s ‘Tanka Tuesday’ prompt. Poets were prompted to… Continue reading Sky, or: Earth