I float in poppies muffled footpads cortege shadows amethyst falling geranium petals kissed arrows verdant voyeurs hush sighs mute skies where errant gods taste honey in holy water your twenty-fourth hour; now earth rules my iron sorrow Hedgewitch is today’s host of Shay’s Word Garden Word List. Hedgewitch says: As Shay says,: “What we do…
Tag: Shay's Word Garden
Word Garden Word List #12 (Richard Brautigan)
Slow? Or Quick? Frankenstein fish paddle every rural creek, crackling neon- streaked streams where freaks flare and bite. Brain-stem stubs, double-headed hornets with lantern bodies writhe while entranced pumpkin heads laugh on steamy sludgebanks at autonomic polyfluoroalkyl St. Vitus’ dance. We, tho, roam jungle streets, urban dinosaurs ceaselessly jonesing for extradimensional bliss. We prance, a…
Word Garden Word List #11 (“A Ted Hughes Bestiary”)
Hatched from zodiac of needles and razors, talons and beaks of solely murderous pretense, feathered non-sophists soar thunder vapors; lofty cheesecake stars in post-holiday snaps but if inquisition were curious to know, not only chain-toppers but riflers of rubbish, and theft; opportune scavengers, symbols, screaming their credo in glittered looting arrogance: greed is good. image…
Word Garden Word List #10 (Wallace Stevens)
I would be remiss if I failed to mention that, seeing Ernest Hemingway in the street, Stevens is supposed to have said, “You think you’re Ernest Hemingway,” and promptly punched Hemingway in the face, breaking his hand in doing so. Afterward, Hemingway helped Stevens to bed to recover. –Shay Lilacs a blackbird perches in the…
Shay’s Word Garden Word List #9 (Joan Colby)
Undone Today I climb with crows, their silhouettes flickering in sunlight like16mm movies. I rise to where gypsy clocks reign – where regret’s stitched coffin rests, to when we parted; when love, pain, and evil danced — to your lithe, lifeless form, now mist glissades as you kiss the rocks; your right broken femur a…
Shay’s Word Garden Word List #8 (Russell Edson) & dVerse OLN
Hey Diddle Diddle Your smooth thumb circles the electric pink scar, a constellation, one star from silver spoons ago, when the cow grew tusks. We’d nibbled gingerbread, discussing vicarious ghosts of dishes; broken imitations. It made me burst in dizzy. I envisioned your autopsy. The hatchet grazed you. The look in your eyes now is…
Shay’s Word Garden — Word List 7 — (Langston Hughes) Dawn Jazz
Dawn Jazz Landlord of Clocks tick-tocks through my dreams, raining salt on an untamed parade of roses that claw and scrabble towards respite moon. Oh, Lord! I grow weary of the climb; my midnight skin bleeds. Oh, their thorns! yet their faces carry me on, glowing red each dawn. This poem is dedicated both to…
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