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Lonely Town
Lonely Town is the title of the prompt today over at Desperate Poets and the title of my poem for submission. Why reinvent the wheel? there is only one herein this upsidey townthere is only one herewith his upsidey frownand each single nothing is only just hiswrapped up in the feather of a missed lover’s kissthe drains sing a tinkle-song heartbreak in fallwashing all of the worldsswilling deluge…
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in the genes of us
Our sister poet, Sky Blue Sherry, has offered a beautiful prompt, Indigenous Voices, over at the desperate poets….it has many a layer to it but this particular part spoke to me. ….finding comfort in the beauty around us, whether it is as vast as the sky or as small as a dew-covered spider-web, on a cornstalk by the back fence in the early morning. It must have been walking with me as i visited…
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remains
I began working on this piece a month ago and I think it was the seed from which my Wrestling Angels Prompt was born. Having revitalised an old poem for submission at The Desperate Poets, I have now completed this one as a second submission. love’s bubbled illusion cocooned meuntil the pandemic’s kiss waved metumbling to a now far off home’s landno boat to carry me there in the stormonly the…
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rippled
A prompt from the dVerse Poets Pub titled, Prosery: Valsa George-“The Accidental Poet” The sun sank its blood orange form into the stillness of the ocean. The sea was pond like and the dull glowing orb seemed bigger than the horizon. I guess you could call it a moment. But it wasn’t. Not yet. A fish jumped. Arcing its way along the sinking circumference of the end of the day, it traced a path…
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mi rage
We didn’t think it was possible for a very, very, very, long time. even as it all slipped away. slowly, slow, slower. imperceptibility as ignorance. disappearance in plain sight. swathes of ‘over there,’ gone but not landed in these bodies. not my back yard, so not mine. until we realised that all of it was always all of our back yards, always our addiction to destruction. clouding…
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gone but not gone
Once upon a time and this is a true story i looked heavenward bewildered and blinded by the new found knowledge that what I could see was gone This Boy Scout was not prepared Not for this Our troupe Chaplain had explained astronomy for beginners Time and distance on an epic scale meant we could see what was not there anymore Generations from now Starfish not stars may not be…
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bheared
dark veined, coal blackened tributaries, cold waters of an ancient mass tumble and curse their way from my night time’s frozen icicled heights shadowing through fissure and crack in a dancing spiral of the coming time falling towards the chilled dawn, footprinting invocations at life’s ocean edge sleep’s prescience smells the killing approach of bird song and whispers me wake from my…
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Tree Tanka XIX
A new series inspired by the many trees I have photographed over the years. Here I am combining some of those photos with Tanka poetry. Each poem is composed for a particular photograph and is an ‘imagined’ poetic verse from the tree itself, speaking directly to the times we are living in right now. One of the oldest Japanese forms, Tanka (A Short Song) originated in the seventh century, and…
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