Poetry Partners #167 'I don't know', a poem by Marvin Tordillos of 'A Poem A Day' I don't know I can't sleep I don't know I keep waking up I don't know why I am so distressed I don't know but I'm awake right now I don't know but my mind's a mess I don't… Continue reading I don’t know, or: Try not to
Poem: You, seize the day, if you please, and forgive my concerns regarding your eager search for purpose. I need a minimum of eight hours sleep! Am not available, at 4am. I admire your rigour. And then, I roll over. I have a dream waiting for me. So, yes, seize the day, if you please,… Continue reading REBLOG: ‘Seize the day’ by Britta Benson
A poem in 'Memento' form The candles lit; the blessings said; All gathered for dinner As one; Sometimes the wine goes to our heads; Sauvignon's a winner- All gone. Relaxing, we ease weary minds; And feeling the warm glow- Hearts soar; On our Day of Rest, let's unwind- Please- uncork that Merlot- And pour. Memento?… Continue reading Sauvignon, or: Merlot
A piece of Tanka Prose supine form in bed motionless, but for deep breaths eyelids flutter rapidly unmade choices lived again blank stare up at white ceiling I don’t take care of myself very well. My sleep schedule is ridiculously inconsistent; some nights I only sleep three hours; other nights, I may sleep for ten.… Continue reading Blank stare, or: Unmade choices
A haibun My daily schedule has changed quite a bit since I began my new job. Whereas I once had a lot of flexibility, I now have to put in 8 hours at the office daily. I can no longer drop my daughter off and pick her up from school on the same day. Also,… Continue reading June, or: Jeune
A piece of Tanka Prose stoic behind wheel multiple backseat drivers steel sky glints at dawn desert summer sears highways air conditioning cools heads This week, both yesterday and tomorrow, I am on site visits for work; and I am the designated driver. Yesterday's site visits were wonderful. It's inspirational to see some of the… Continue reading Steel sky, or: Desert summers
My 1st Constanza This is not a poem as such... I'm writing these lines off the cuff and tipsy off the stronger stuff. I simply can't be bothered much when my head is heavy and tired... when I'm so bloody uninspired... As my fingers firm table clutch, I realize I might collapse; my concentration's long… Continue reading Under control, or: Under advisement
Poetry Partners #20 'Fog', a poem by Steven S. Wallace of 'There is no Stigmata' Enveloping white Fog covers the highway soft Beyond and unknown. Mist creeping along Like a man in an alley Lighting a cigarette. Wafting from the west As a persistent rumor Travels through a crowd. Shrouding the beyond This inscrutable ghost… Continue reading Foggy, or: Clouded mind
The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱 
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