dogtrax

A place to gather words before they get lost.

Marginal Poems for Tellio inspired by https://impedagogy.com/wp/blog/2023/03/11/foundling-poem/

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Minor chords turn on notes a half step off

My mind works the night in blue

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An envelope of dirt-rich seeds arrived, and it was your handwriting that caught my eye — the possibilities of something beautiful growing in the soil next to me

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It takes a sec for the drummer to find it to kick it the pocket woven by feet and fingers on the four

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I laze, daydreaming of metronomes, the beat of sound ticking off the song which never ends

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Is it still a map, she asked, in wonder, if I never write it down, never draw it out, never give directions, but only find a sliver of thread and pull?

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Gravity says they fall as hard and as fast as their heavy cousins, but poets know they land lightly, a tender kiss falling along the chin and cheek

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One is never ready for a dangerous reckoning; We become too lost in moments of the past's beckoning

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Been there Never did it Almost saw it Nearly wrote it then forgot it

I wish I could inhabit the words of the seasons between summer and fall, between winter and spring -

I'm left to wonder why there doesn't seem to be any such celebration for the time before those changes begin

We're always writing there in those liminal spaces where worlds blossom with verse, green buds wetting a finger to the wind,

or transforming from stemmed thin veins into something brittle brown beautiful; thoughts rambling around as seasonal modulations sing

Wind rattles bones – you're never alone -

this cold arrives - it's a kettle of stones

thrumming like the string of a kite, being blown -

Take my hand; together, we'll find our way home

for #mastoprompt

Devour us, we seem to want to say, as we open up our lives to give so much of ourselves away

the beast in the corner barely nodding, an endless scavenger of data image words information, chewing up our thoughts, night and day

for #mastoprompt

How one single woman transfixed us for hours from the stage with only a guitar, microphone, songs and stories is an act of sheer magic, made ever more wondrous when she dropped the guitar and gifted us only her voice for a resounding encore

inspired by watching Ruthie Foster live on the stage

See Ruthie perform Phenomenal Woman at another music fest https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOCISQjTHDw

Bitter cold winter winds blowing through clothing and skin and all we can whisper when we're together are these soft yearnings for Spring

for #mastoprompt

This umbrella folds in on itself in the wind and torrential rains

an inverse design that brings wet instead of dry

for #mastoprompt

Currents, rapids and slipstreams -

every pilot navigates the small folds between

reality and dreams

for #mastoprompt

Meet me among the roots of the tree -

inside a hidden architecture no one else can see -

a liaison in the light of another morning rising;

only us, beneath the eaves

for #mastoprompt

Angry back still groans, moaning about the shovel hanging there, silent

for Algot