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

Seven-years-old, or: Forever

A haibun I still remember her name: Jacqueline. At the time, I was in first grade and feeling very unsure of what life might have in store. My family would be moving from Iowa to New Jersey shortly; and I'd never see any of my little classmates again. On what I believe was my final… Continue reading Seven-years-old, or: Forever

In, or: Out

An American sentence in 10 words: Occasionally, I wonder which of my forebears was first exiled. 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… Continue reading In, or: Out

Slushy, or: Smoothie

An American sentence: Caked in uncommon, slushy snow, Jerusalem's worth photographing. 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 removing the line… Continue reading Slushy, or: Smoothie

Twitter poetry 2021: Week 32

My blogger-poet-friend Ingrid inspired me to create a Twitter account and start writing #APoemADay, which I began on January 1, 2021. This week, I posted a series of ukiahs, which are reverse haikus. The syllable count by line for a ukiah is 7-5-7 (the opposite of a haiku), and unlike a haiku, the lines should rhyme. Also, since a… Continue reading Twitter poetry 2021: Week 32

Mare, or: Reflection

I wade in; I float near Not myself- who's that there? Can't be me; won't free me Else, I'd drift out to see No windows- no wind blows Stale thoughts heave in death throes This place's strange faces Fill the spaces tightly Swift pacing, mind racing Dreams fleeted yet chasing Depleted, now seated, Truth meted… Continue reading Mare, or: Reflection