Back then she was called Babydoll,a spark from mommy’s fever dream;their heaped station wagon zig-zaggedto try-outs with soulless faces. P(r)imped in ringlets and pink ruffles,back then she was called Babydoll.She batted her eyes; dimpled herway onto marquees nation-wide. Sedatived for conveniencethat by teenhood became habit.Back then she was called Babydoll.The offers changed, the lights now…
Category: poetry
The Anthropocene Hymnal is published! — Experiments in Fiction
Today, this book of wonderful poetry about saving our planet becomes available in both paperback or kindle versions. Two of my poems have been chosen to be in it. All proceeds from the book go to organizations working to save our planet. Please consider buying one $4 (for kindle) or $9 (for paperback) or donate…
dVerse — Poetics — The Wells that Never Empty
The Muses who inspire do not abandon me;round the clock they tick, sparked heartbeatsthat draw the world ever closer in varied splendor:morning’s cooled dew in Summer,pink snow of sunrise in Winter,the earth-toned blanket of Fall,and the creeping green of Spring. At dusk’s change of shift, I listen for the wingsof Mother Night as she travels…
dVerse — Prosery — Ama
No, I do not weep at the world –I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.–Zora Neale Hurston,from “How Does it Feel to be Colored Me”in, World Tomorrow (1928) Daddy was known in our backwoods holler as Deacon. When he got up on his stump near Heron River’s shady cool banks, folks gathered; no…
TSM 169 — Sun on my face
When the sun warms my face,when the wind blows my hair,I can feel grey erase. A direct shot of grace,it reads like a prayerwhen the sun warms my face. Benediction in raysto disperse earthly cares,I can feel grey erase. I forget my mistakes,cast my doubts to the airwhen the sun warms my face. Content thoughts…
dVerse 10th anniversary celebration week — MTB — Somewhen, somewhere
Instead of a spell in mortar and pestle dwell cast potions and powders aside to climb aboard magic carpet of dreams When the cruel have been culled to fertilizer, when clawed hand way of the coin has passed, when we return to garden again, a community. When plastic and propaganda have been chucked, when trees,…
DIRECT BLOG LIFT to urge poets to participate in POetryPOstcard Fest 2021, Registration ends July 18, 2021
I’m participating in Poetry Postcard Fest 2021 for the first time. Kerfe Roig told me about it. I’ve gotten 22 collage postcards done so far and maybe half that many poems written. The deadline for registration is July 18, 2021. Once you register you will be added to a list with 30 other people in…
Tao-Talk 