but (something) beautiful - the way the sound of the night plays against the echoes of the stage, notes bending in the light of each fading day
for #OpenWrite
but (something) beautiful - the way the sound of the night plays against the echoes of the stage, notes bending in the light of each fading day
for #OpenWrite
The muskrat, Chuchundra, trembles as he relays the news - his cousin, Chua, reminded him: snakes are everywhere - Can't you hear? Can't you hear?
for #OpenWrite Riff off Rikki Tikki Tavi
Whipped cream frosting on a whipped cream cake
My mother, tossing sugar, with the oven set to bake
A once-a-year adventure she'd once agreed to take
I'd sit and watch her work, and dream and contemplate
then after celebration, we'd dig in, without haste
I'd close my eyes in wonder and lose myself to taste
for #OpenWrite
So much becomes us only in reflection
dappled surface of river running towards the patient ocean
against the bend, the boat pushes against timeless currents
and then, the heart, a mirage we make real by remembering
for #OpenWrite
A song is something to remember a memory by -
a melody hiding inside
a scaffold of a poem -
Sometimes, you sing together; sometimes, you sing it alone
for #OpenWrite
https://claude.ai/public/artifacts/46c5ab6d-37b2-49ca-9d7c-cad6670fa03e
Maybe you can remember how we've become Entangled; Not just merely Tempered, but enmeshed Inside these echoes Of Newness and the now
Acrostic poem (“mention”) for #OpenWrite
It takes quiet, doesn't it, to notice the lone leaf, dropping?
The way it swoops its way downward, taking its time dancing on the currents
This, the first sign of summer ending, signaling something to a sleepy world
for #openwrite
We thought it was surprise snow, in June, in middle America, because we were young and didn't know any better, the two of us, barely still boys, in that old Buick, barreling back to New England, from Madison, the mission to Wisconsin to woo her back, a failed one, but still, a college break adventure, and it was a swarm of bugs, not flakes, a night cloud of them knocking glass and waking us up so fully with surprise we finally laughed at it all, and that's what we still remember the most: the storm of insects clouding our view as we drove east, back towards home
for #openwrite
Even broken strings on an old broken guitar sing in deep repose;
the memory thrums - the hand strums an architecture of notes
Somewhere, that familiar song still plays in a broken key; its resonance, floats
for #OpenWrite
I'm often wandering through the words of poets, sneaking small pockets of ideas, stealing seeds for sprouts, holding out hope on how poems emerge from dirt tilled by others; take a breath, blow, and let dandelions flow
for #OpenWrite