Poetry Partners #137 'Swimming Against the Tide', a 'Snyder Nonce' poem by M. Snyder of 'The Art of M.' She swam against the tide that was too strong Found herself nearly drowned in the process He told her to continue to hold on She could barely grab a hold of his hand Her sullen expression,… Continue reading Ebb, or: Tide
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
A serious limerick Sometimes, I lock truths up in my heart for fear they could tear me apart. I can but haw and hem when I think to speak them, and when writing... even to start... smarts.
A limerick On my frail days, life's a whale of a fail. Basic emails weigh like heavy travails. Raising up grail of peace, I can't avail of release, for, ailed and pale, I forget to exhale. ‘What do you see’ Prompt #130 For Sadje’s weekly #WDYS prompt, she offered the photo below (taken by Matt Barringer) as inspiration for writers… Continue reading Frail days, or: Whelming
A nonet Anxiety is merely four syl~ lables: 'anx', an abbrevia~ tion for 'thanks' (for what, exact~ ly?) for one's all-consum~ ing I? e(eeeeeee), panic ringing 'tween one's ears; t(ea)? Yes! Chamo~ mile. Nonet? A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables,… Continue reading Chamomile? or: Lavender?
A gogyohka my poetry wears me out on dates stretched taut over its form
The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱 
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