Poem: Poems whisper to me as I prepare for bed Like a lullaby I hear them in my head I fall asleep holding my notebook tight Clutch my pen feeling the ink glowing bright I dream I am writing in my slumber But when awake I can’t remember To capture elusive words that run asunder… Continue reading REBLOG: ‘Sleep Writing’ by Yassy Khan
Bottles never used to last me too long; now cognacs and whiskeys stand around bored for many long months on our kitchen shelf. Sure, I pour a glass every so often (rarely, truth be told); but excitement's gone. Is it my writing, my medication, my age? Hard to say, but that beer I had yesterday… Continue reading Cold, or: Hot
A 'Bref Double' I took French for seven years in school; Now I remember very little of it. As an adult, I studied Arabic - Flushing what remained from my brain. The brain can rust like any other tool; That's something Papa liked to tell me. "Practice if you want something to stick." My seven years… Continue reading French, or: Arabic
An American sentence: I sip hot morning coffee, sighing with deep relief and self-judgment. 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 Relief, or: Self-judgment
An ode to relocation Identity's not one's location, But many go to seek themselves; Youth, enticed by relocation, Pulls pack off the top shelf. Years lived in foreign societies Reveal a sojourner's essence; Accepting improprieties, Rethinking each defense. Awash in others yet so alone, Adaption proffers survival; Inner wisdoms bring out one's own faithful, living… Continue reading Identity, or: Living bible
A Cleave poem in the form of two Shadormas bodiless unrestrainedfloating up above by sick fleshlinessobserving what had beenwith clear-eyed consciousnessunderstanding life's veiled truths apprehending past misstepsone ought feel ashamed of a careless life How to read a cleave poem? Simply: Read the left hand poem as a first discrete poem. Read the right hand… Continue reading Free-floating, or: Fleshliness
A sijo I am not more motivated, nor am I happier; The anxiety medication is clearly working well; I can soberly observe my flaws better than ever before Sijo? A Korean verse form related to haiku and tanka and comprised of three lines of 14-16 syllables each, for a total of 44-46 syllables. Each line contains a pause near… Continue reading The calm, or: The storm
Poetry Partners #123 'My Eyes', a 'Quadrille' (44 words) by Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris of 'Gypsie's Writings, Musings, Quotes & Poetry' Laying alone in my recliner hard to move now My eyes see everything yet my eyes see nothing at all Vivid memories bombard my mind while I can’t remember what day it is Still my… Continue reading My eyes, or: My true self
The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱 
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