we say: cast out the man with lantern eyes & brows spelling thunder who slows the deathly flooding in your child blood of blood, sweet woman count not the broken phials and strewn violence! banish him Ausländische Prinzessin! A mother's love is but hysteria. Written for the Sanaa's dVerse Quadrille prompt "Casting a Poetic Spell"
I rake leaves and contemplate the selling of beauty as a capitalist ideal: boxed and essenced, smelling sweet. Meanwhile, the western sky rips apricot horizons from blue. Another day ends in brutal waxing. No, hun. That's just a sunset. I read Misky's lovely Sevenling and thought... that's a form I could try! I hope you … Continue reading Sevenling (I rake leaves..)
I try to think kindly of Icarus, waxed feathers and florid heat melted wax, & boiled tears he leaned into that bud of sun too far he believed & the hot rose beckoned greasing the sky with his epiphany the oily swathe of his feathered fall a grim sort of way to be a legend … Continue reading modern suns
(hopefully brief) we are all but sharks in the planet’s glowing tides snapping at spilled blood and exhausted by a need to grow teeth some days a deep breath means looking up... missing keystones and folded tower-blades, all in the seven greys of a dead fish, clouds raked into piles and societies bent low, as … Continue reading a failure in optimism
"The Roaster" by Pablo Picasso this one feather-struck and cock-eyed and tongue hard-wired to drunken yell yodel yay eeeeee! he says do you love it? my self-portrait it's the psychedelic '70s so you see i am the dawn, ladies from wishbone to tail feather i am the dawn hear me roar he tapes himself on … Continue reading Disillusioned
A Villanelle I have no interest in the news in which I can’t find a marbled fact, just people with power spouting views I feel I have to hunt for clues where truth and fiction interact I have no interest in the news I want hope, tea with kindness, light diffuse; not lies like eggshells: … Continue reading No News Nancy
Write about the weather in Present Tense These last few days, everyone is saying “Thank goodness for the sun!” People are stretching like cats, long skin and whiskers pleased. It’s true the summer has been a wet one. Canberra wringing in a wet towel, warmth like dogs breath fogging up the sky. Mosquitoes are having … Continue reading #Go Dog Go Haibun Wednesday
she said: "journalism is an omlette broken eggs and the mothering dreams of cows" "social media fry-up" he objected graphite eyes among candles "truth is cartilage the bend makes us beautiful" merlot flame in glasses glowed his stone her fire and the blackening between Written for De Jackson's dVerse Quadrille Monday #137 - "Stone"
It was said that all things must pass: the big wheels turning, turning over the drought-lands, the down-and-out lands cattle skeletons ploughed in like rotted ships fence-posts - frayed and far-fetched zippers - dragging lines of wind-sawn wire – dun and drear the fierce fires rolling, roiling wanton flames - the lunge and buck, the … Continue reading Things that Pass
Soldiers (and not only you) they may lie before you die they may lie again when your speechless body is in earth's pouch the close, dark hug of it... your life given for a cause... not yours. Lies are the wounds in all our histories suppurating as tiny texts in little known museums or finding … Continue reading Truth