Rooted, or: Eager

A shadorma this office- I haven't grown up -these walls grew around me- my plant's growing towards me rooted but eager Tanka Tuesday For #TankaTuesday, Colleen Chesebro invites writers to share their days in syllabic poems. All we have to do is take a photo and write a syllabic poem about this day, as we… Continue reading Rooted, or: Eager

You, or: Me

Near year's end Only the most tenacious Victims of the biting drifts Endure at the neglected Margins of society Bearing [witness to] icy indifference Even as they huddle, shivering, Ravaged by rejection W3 poetry prompt This verse was written in response to Paula Light's W3 poetry prompt, which was to write an acrostic poem with… Continue reading You, or: Me

Straits, or: Expanses

A 'Cascade' poem I struggle every day to make ends meetAnxieties pummel me into broken gravel Worn ragged, it's a stretch to say I'm freePressure grinds rough at soul skinned rawBuses; clocks; jobs; child; chores; back|forthI struggle every day to make ends meetPump me full of alcohol, caffeine, courageLiquid channels wind through foggy stuporAnxieties pummel… Continue reading Straits, or: Expanses

Morning fog, or: Life insurance

A haibun My new job at The Jewish Agency comes with lots of perks. When I was first offered the position, I was excited about having long-term job security; writing for a living; and working for a major Jewish organization that I'd long had an affinity for (my wife and I met in 2010 as… Continue reading Morning fog, or: Life insurance

Privilege, or: Responsibility

Poetry Partners #80 'The wonders of the world', a poem by Sarah Cope of 'My Endometriosis Story' The clouds barrel into the pools of blue, crashing into golden sunlight streaks piercing through the sky, A canvas of colour full of shades you cannot clarify, As it floats by just above the likes of you and… Continue reading Privilege, or: Responsibility

Sticks, or: Stones

My 1st Espinela A daft hog built a house of straw. His brother made his out of wood. Both got blown over where they stood, which neither foolish boar foresaw. Meanwhile, their sibling set his jaw, ever the intentional swine. He drafted a solid design; wasted no time with hay or sticks; erected fort of… Continue reading Sticks, or: Stones

Whims of time, or: Poetry’s portal

A Wayra slave to whims of time parenthood; work; shopping; sleep clocks' hands spin erratically align but fleetingly poetry's portal clicks ~ step through Wayra? The Wayra (Quechua - wind) is a popular verse form of Peru and Bolivia. The elements of the Wayra are: 5 lines; syllabic, 5-7-7-6-8;unrhymed. #TankaTuesday The above was written for… Continue reading Whims of time, or: Poetry’s portal

Parenthood, or: Empathy

A 'Minute Poem' "Please!" she cries, "Just one minute more!" Child eyes implore. Firm, I insist, Though those eyes mist. "Turn off your tablet, or I will!" Bitter tears spill. She shuts it down ~ With sulky frown. "Tomorrow's school! You need to sleep! Come now, don't weep!" Soft, sweet lips pout... But it's lights… Continue reading Parenthood, or: Empathy