Night drops a sheer veilover budding bits and bobsbut they burrow rootsdeep in earth’s warm soft bosomuntil morning bounces back Prompt via Na/GloPoWriMo is to write a Tanka. This was quick & dirty, as they say. I haven’t written in this blog in a while and things have changed! Bear with me in relearning how do it. Hoping to connect with past Na/GloPoWriMo writers! Leave a link in comments, if you like. Continue reading Sleeping Tanka
a jet cuts across the blue carrying bodies in its metal womb to be delivered somewhere else ***** Napowrimo Day 30 prompt: “I’d like you to try your hand at a minimalist poem. What’s that? Well, a poem that is … Continue reading Limitless Birth
You ask what is air? It’s the super highway for birds It’s the place where screams echo or fade It’s a flotation device for thrown kisses It’s life itself for life on Earth You ask what is water? It’s a … Continue reading It’s All This & More
Missing a thing I never had an indifferent sun shines scorching aloneness the invisible brand in my blood ***** Napowrimo Day 27 Continue reading Hiraeth
I felt raw-boned & rusted Dragging my hands in pockets full of scared Pockets full of scared & Walking a road rutted with wanting to get out I was wanting to get out That red dirt prison, that green-treed mess A … Continue reading Raw Boned
Pass through the skin of the chrysalis, emerge pumped into Earth, a mythological creature with a body blooded on sunlight, a body called more, and wings perched perpendicular from bathing in more heat than color. ***** Napowrimo Day 24 prompt: … Continue reading Beautiful Misfit
Feet bound to earth one day, soaring through space the next, turning a page from past to future and skipping everything in between. Weightless above mountain tops, above savannas spread below rich with movement, the khaki and green of the … Continue reading Weightless
Bob lived in a castle in the clouds, when he was home the clouds tinkled like zills on a bellydancers fingers, when he was out the clouds did the Hustle because Bob forbade it when he was home. Bob had … Continue reading Tea with Bob
She was fairy fluff conjured up by a man named Baum who, like many men, see women as either Good or Bad. Glinda was a fantastical ideal with a blank smile dressed in a frothy pink (of course) dress, perfect … Continue reading Glinda was never a Witch
My eyes are dry now Still, my heart flows river-like To a sea of tears ***** Napowrimo Day 18 prompt: “Today, I’d like to challenge you to write an elegy of your own, one in which the abstraction of sadness is … Continue reading Grief in Repose
