A place to gather words before they get lost.
August tricks the leaves, thieves the trees of mystery: it's summer, not fall
for Algot
Bare feet scuffles on sharpened yellow grass
the arid reminders of a sky refusing to fall
Spring's flowers, faded; the weeds, grown tall
for #mastoprompt
Touch the stones that fjord the stream that make the lake that limits the Earth
for all effort to hold back these waters are but temporary, anyway
for #mastoprompt
It's Pachyderm funk coming from the woods with a trombone trunk its bended blue notes could crank, crash, crunk and if you hear it, you should dance it even if your moves are junk
for #mastoprompt
When windows become broken
ideas become open
Every stone's a throw, to shatter
the illusions no longer matter
for #mastoprompt
Just don 't delet e me – the delete ke y won't fr ee me – it will only remove m e and I wan t you to se e me
for #mastoprompt
Freed but forgotten: the emancipated people of our collective past still languish at the bottom of memory
for #mastoprompt
Fragile Earth
Where is the line of wonder for those of us whose lives tumble beneath the weight of a fractured world?
Thunder beckons this night, a flashing storm of zig-zag jagged light, a dangerous reckoning, beautiful, eerily bright
and safe in this house, we huddle to see a generational tree, born before collective generational memory
its branches broken: splintered into unrecognizable splintered beyond belief splintered as shadow, in relief
Change forces us to reconsider:
Are we the home built upon the dirt?
Or, are we the roots in a fragile earth?
A tribe called (it) quest - built inside beats, listened best with headphones on, up too loud, ear-worm samples and word play: urban music getaway
a tanka for #mastoprompt and #ds106