sheets of pink-tinged grey raise walls between the orange orb and our sun-starved eyes yellowed grapefruit leaves — carting them inside where it’s warm saves trees from frost’s kill TPJPhoto.net — excellent photographer!!!!! spoonbills, herons, storks huddle together for warmth — not so much low tide
Category: poetry
Day 9 — OctWriPoMo — Believe also The Daily Post Prompt — Believe
image link Believe How does belie become believe? Did it start with your eyes betraying your lies? So it ends with goodbyes. How did I know that your words were just show? Over time, to and fro, sowing seeds that din’t grow. Bring me up, then so low. At the end, you had…
Mindhive
MINDHIVE Thoughts. Where’s your home? Great beehive, honey. Networks of chambers filled with honeycomb gold. Mined sometimes with great care. Sometimes shoveled out, clumped. Drones, unconscious, crawl the comb, vibing veins that must drip on the page; words dripping this way and that. They work tirelessly to empty it. Queen, Great Mother, makes sure drones…
ELASTIC
Elastic Energetic octopi. Latex has its way. A rubber band… Snap! Take as long as you like. Images shift with dark and light. Caramel in the sun. (acrostic form) The Daily Post — Prompts — Elastic
Day 7 — OctWriPoMo — Arrow
Pierce Arrow hood ornament Gilmore Car Museum 2014 Arrow Your jaw went slack. Your eyes went wide. You gasped for air. I hit my stride. Morning’s regret will wait.
Shadows
The man today* said, Close your eyes and try to visualize the last person who you saw who was ashamed and see where you feel it in your body. I visualize my mother, trying to understand my brother kicking her out. Then I visualize my ex, trying to make amends. Awkward smiles, with a hint…
The Story Remains the Same — parental unit analysis
Today’s prompt got me thinking about what I’ve learned from my parents. It’s a ponderance I’ve had over the years that what’s been learned is a mixed bag. Parental attributes are a double-edged sword, a yin and yang, if you will. I have no idea whether this can be considered poetry or not, but the…
