Being dismissed, or: Death sentence

An American sentence: Being dismissed from the hospital, for some, is like a death sentence. 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… Continue reading Being dismissed, or: Death sentence

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

Chemotherapy, or: Blood transfusion

An American sentence: My aunt's white blood cell count is much too low for her to receive chemo. 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… Continue reading Chemotherapy, or: Blood transfusion

Helter, or: Skelter

A 'Coraline' poem 'pon shores renowned for rough welter, by unlit lighthouse whiling days, whooping from trees along lush bay, untroubled by glowing swelter... 'til dark morn papa brought grim news that left him mourning all he'd lose- no longer to helter skelter- leave behind easy, breezy ways. chapter two in dark, woodsy lands brought… Continue reading Helter, or: Skelter

Tomorrow will come, or: August’s evening sigh

A haibun This calendar year, I've been fairly ambitious, adding increasingly more writing prompts to my weekly blogging schedule. This recently renewed search for new sources of inspiration began back in January; and Go Dog Go Café's Haibun Wednesday, run by Donna, was one of the first I committed to. Sadly, that journey has now… Continue reading Tomorrow will come, or: August’s evening sigh

Mother, or: Mother

Poetry Partners #102 'Mother O’ Mother, here I Come', a poem by Hassan Safdar of 'Poetry & Narrative Writing' Mother, here I come, here I come. I know it's your day & you shall be seeing around. There I come with a gift in hand. To give you that happiness, which can’t be understood. To… Continue reading Mother, or: Mother

Final act, or: Curtains

A Descort poem celebration's pretense even in most probable circumstances remains merely a beautifying curtain behind life's stages we speak words, even write them, to great roars of encore, encore cute, unwilling marionettes please I'd simply retire into the darkness if not for my present expectant audience Descort poem The descort differentiates itself from other… Continue reading Final act, or: Curtains

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