Sometimes I am judge, and sometimes I am jury, and sometimes, I stand accused, madly dashing down notes for my defense of a scribbled-out poem or song or story, written in a rush and posted before I took the time to consider each line as evidence to be used later in trials of a writer's revisionist history.
—inspired by #openwrite and the prompt of a One Sentence Poem https://www.ethicalela.com/one-sentence-poem/
If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn — Charlie Parker (attributed)
What exactly am I living when I am playing music out of my horn, just the way Bird told it, according to some, while according to others, maybe the words of Bird I carry around with me were never his to begin with, and ain't that just like a bebopper like Charlie Parker to lift something from someone else and riff it into your own as a bit of theft, and all I'm left with here to play with is the possibility that we need to live our days like stories like song like improvisational poetry
— for #openwrite
Come grab your chair I'm over here These days we write won't disappear
We sit to watch the stories grow
I've traveled your stories You rest in my poems We share the shade of leaning, home
We sit to watch the stories grow
When you're the leaves and I'm the stem, we root together and wait for Spring
We sit to watch the stories grow
And next year's harvest starts with this year's seeds We gather our words on this fragile belief
We sit to watch the stories grow
I wonder if the world dreams of me
and if it dreams of me,
what might the dreaming world see of me?
Am I a thorn or a source of pride?
A knitter's hook or a singer's smile?
or maybe the world doesn't dream at all of me
maybe the world can't fall asleep;
a restless spirit, all because of the likes of me
Short Thoughts About Writing
Ink gone dry; poems still flow
Write of spaces between the stones
Stories don't exist until we speak
Leaving off letters makes new words
Sometimes writing rules break, become bent
Memory becomes filter for remembering nothing
Pages closed, the book remains unwritten
for #openwrite using Hay(na)ku Poetry Style https://www.ethicalela.com/haynaku/
Alternative Names for the Daily Newspaper
for #openwrite
https://www.ethicalela.com/alternate-names-a-list/
inspired by https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/56843/alternate-names-for-black-boys
Hiding Myself in Annotation (An Experimental Poem)
One: See #2
Two: Where a part of me might linger in a poet's notes, the other ghosts to
Three: See #5
Four: You notice I'd crouching not revealing much, in order to hide to
Five: In public spheres, where one so easily disappears, I am barely these words as you think you know me here
Six: See #3 then step to #8
Seven: I am Kevin. That much is truth.
Eight: I am writer power poet teacher preacher songwriting go it alone leaping forward like skipping stone to #10
Nine: See what I did there? Gave just enough verse to completely disappear from here, and then hit the poem upon reverse
Ten: Back to #7
for #openwrite https://www.ethicalela.com/steps-to-being-insert-name/
Whose woods these are I may no longer know as my shoes dip heavy through new-fallen snow
The dog's beyond me, on the trail of a scent as I follow her tracks, in silence, seemingly sent
from somewhere above; trees grabbing midwinter sky as I hike through the gap between the ground, and I
for #openwrite with hat nod to Robert Frost (of course) http://www.ethicalela.com/out-back-a-form/
Let's meet somewhere in the music
in the space between the staves and sound vibrations of the treble clef
Let's meet somewhere where chords connect, where your notes complement mine
in the rhythm of the movement of the signature of the time
Let's meet somewhere at the start,
and then let's meet again at the end:
this joyous singing heart
for #openwrite
Songlet
Feel free, she told me, to remember me, as tree,
to see me rooted in dirt, the unsettled place where love clings to hurt
So I sung her song - I still sing her song - so I would never forget,
for why make a sonnet, queries the poet of rules, when lines break beautiful, into songlet?
for #openwrite