A hammer to the head — it's not what you think — but even so, years after, I thought about it, often, late at night, remembering the fall, the cry, the call, as I lay awake in bed
A hammer to the head — it's not what you think — but even so, years after, I thought about it, often, late at night, remembering the fall, the cry, the call, as I lay awake in bed
On paper, at least, a travel itinerary's flawlessly built on possibilities: a leap in imagination of side alleyways, riverside wanderings, museum galleries, shops and eateries, and a language to wrestle your tongue into submission
for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/oh-the-places-youll-go/
Imagine a world of cloud rolling above the hills, alone, but beyond a crowd of daytime daffodils, with petals reaching towards trees, both, swaying to the breeze
a “borrowed rhyme” poem for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/borrowed-rhymes/ words borrowed from I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud by William Wordsworth https://discoverpoetry.com/poems/william-wordsworth/i-wandered-lonely-as-a-cloud/
A moment of breathing, in the woods
Stop – note the uncurling green branch buds;
this small grove of elm trees awakens
for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/when-spring-speaks-in-tricubes/
I am wander a page spelunker wrapping fingers around verse immersed inside some other poet's writing finding something forgotten or missed a glance a sound a thought a kiss
for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/the-verse-collector/
You see the whole of things, Charles Wallace, while we capture only the softest of edges
It's almost as if you're invisibly threaded in connection to your sister, her thoughts in the night like starlight,
and yet, you fall silent near strangers, observant as always, always noticing the slightest twitches in the fabric of time
You might do well to learn to wear humility as a blanket, for the universe depends upon you
a poem inspired by A Wrinkle In Time
for #OpenWrite
Beneath snow, ice — an invisible layer of danger
Tread carefully where nature is known to harden in form
We wander this world always on the edge of collapse
for #OpenWrite
Worse than silence, the tenor sax sounds wounded, like an old cat in the corner of a room - out of tune and out of sorts – my breath, of course, out of sync with its notes: it's broke but can be fixed; it's this I think about in the days it lays open on the workshop table, the technician like surgeon taking my Martin apart – reduced to pads and keys and levers and springs – things just scattered about - piece by piece by piece, until that moment of re-connection, when repairs have been complete
for #OpenWrite about healing and hurt (Martin is a brand of tenor saxophone)
Inks of rain; Life, described, then realigned - fits between lines in unanimous silence; Choose a word, then a moment, to edit, design, distribute, as nothing burns outside our bodies: poetry as broken intimacy
An etheree mirror poem for #OpenWrite using Vintage Vanity by Terrance Hayes as foundational text https://poets.org/poem/vintage-vanity
Secret: make a song, gold-woven with shadows
My fingers play you, gently,
a blanket, blue like silver
I sing and in my heart
I shelter you, secretly
a blackout/found poem for #openwrite Original Source: Secret by Gwendolyn B. Bennett https://flic.kr/p/2qLRDgD