February 2012
31 posts
3 tags
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Golden Reprieve Her
Plankton please
my ankle strains
while lips might
swallow bone.
Bewildered forests
suddenly leave.
The forge’s
mettle shown.
He slid the rasp,
she hid the risk.
A whisk will wend
for home.
An asp for Anton,
broken knee.
Cleo sailed
alone.
3 tags
Fume Adore
There are fumes
and then there’s fumerate;
the mass unladen
on our plates.
Her platelets churn
but only urns
contain the grates.
A Sage relates this
unseen fate,
wild facts redacted
in the face
of acting ranks.
Our Pepper mills about
and outs the cranks,
reveals their saucers simply —
as fantastic pranks.
6 tags
Not A Given
Less pleas
and less pleasing.
Now let’s procede, plebe.
The breeds must acede
7 seeds.
“give me more,
give me more…”
Ampersand;
Understudied,
Extant.
3 tags
Icon
These vanities
have vanished in
the hot Havana rains,
their edge is neither freehand
nor constrained.
And, while the nights
are wild, we mustn’t
quibble with
our childish glee.
Set the sequence ending
then repeat,
sainted readings faint.
3 tags
Edge Case
Fostered in a play
of masks and paints
our time was taken,
boldly, far away.
With regrets,
no parapets
were harmed
on our ascent.
In avoiding risks
this awful void awaits.
5 tags
“Here are the two states in which you may exist: person who writes, or person who...”
– 25 Things I Want To Say To So-Called “Aspiring” Writers
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Nib
You confer far too much
in the ends of lines,
through pens that bloody pages.
By design, some rhyme must be internal
just like this hemorrhage.
4 tags
Or, Rather,
The shimmers hand-play cardamom.
Felt Father flooded France. Go page!
The whoas censure blood working (for free rage).
Cocoa warmer 3, same page.
The play, she her Co-worker,
all her searching - franchise, go.
The shimmers hand the same.
3 tags
Understanding
We were particles
entrenched,
swiftly-shattered spires
of meaning,
a trough and crest
that swept to shore
long latitudes below
the rest.
Our encounters — just
unlikely metaphors.
4 tags
blazing skin
Audacious rays heat sand.
Polar-carbon rage
drawn phage ablaze.
She wielded phages
in salacious skins.
Beneath the roans feet;
broken polar screams…
4 tags
Molten Corps
The work of the cuckoo was to find the scent absent their knees. It went with bars horizontal like ladders, but lacking portability.
Like bars, but lacking drink.
Like lacking, but imbued.
Amplified, the rungs slung closer to the center, melting successful polarized attractants. Rust began to formal, bow and tied to otter slides. It waited like Paris’s quiver, bowing for mortal...
5 tags
Considered
It’s murder in the end.
All related plates
are stained
and, given that
the helix
is our fate,
grasping grates
and crescent wax,
traits pertaining
to a glacial pace
should be portrayed.
3 tags
Mercury Elixir
He’s more than sane.
He brought sustain,
He bought clay clocks
to watch them wane.
As the prophets set
an armistice ablaze,
He stalks their daughters.
He’s more than sane.
He drowns their fathers.
He scries the pitch
for blackened waters.
His daughters flee
the madness at His gates.
He’s more than sane.
3 tags
To the Hilt
Bureau crazy measures doled
in spoonfuls
by convincing slick —
surfaces so soundly underway
(our first foray).
Restless at
their measures,
the back room sort
of jester gestures,
cross word indications
now in play.
4 tags
How to Survive the Tumblr Writing Community
The only way to play is not to win.
Seriously, diversify. Find the best - people who inspire you. Find the prodigies - people you want to see grow and succeed. Find friends.
Don’t follow someone back if they make you hate your dash. Don’t think that selling books to each other is a reasonable business model. Don’t pretend that following people who write what you like to read...
Mind's Eye Doctor
As a child, I remember reading that cellophane could be made to sound like a fire…
Having never seen cellophane, I imagined some sort of almost magical liquid with bizarre sound properties…
1 tag
onnothingandeverything replied to your post: On Cut-ups (Or Why *Jist* is My Favorite Piece in Months) thank you for breaking down your writing process! i’m going to have a play with the DPG :)
You’re welcome.
If you’re like me, you have fragments sitting around that you love, but that won’t proceed to completion. Sometimes injecting a bit of chaos can deliver a single...
4 tags
On Cut-ups (Or Why *Jist* is My Favorite Piece in...
Yesterday I started the morning with two fragments rolling around in my text drawer.
Piece 1:
A latent allure,
assured asides
muttered at hats
on brazen brims
a madam’s whim
implied.
And Piece 2:
Beneath the cut
is hoary bone,
swiveling teeth
and vulture beaks
Neither one seemed to want to go anywhere, content to sit and stagnate. When this happens, I...
4 tags
WatchThe dark side of the moon…
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On Edge
The bow he tied
into your lace
can stay.
The sugar in
your hourglass
must wait,
to tempt the fates.
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Jist
“Allure,”
a whim implied.
“Beneath its teeth, allure,”
an aside of a whim,
“and beaks.”
Muttering bone,
swiveling muttered
to brazen boys,
“The vulture
is latent beneath…”
“…beneath the bone
and teeth.”
5 tags
From These to There
Tears fall, lacking.
His fall,
the tears clear
as past
compresses vision.
Caressed compression of
her back in time.
Transgressions without time.
And today,
his knife’s suspicions —
fingering caresses
in her pictures,
not his pictures—
Suspicious.
Never laughter.
Pictures on the ground.
3 tags
Far From These Things
Beholden,
she backs away
till the stars
compress around
his vision.
Pictures throw themselves
to the ground,
or hang
in suspicious effigy.
A knife’s edge
tears and falls away
with Time’s division.
His aria fails, expression in
flute fingering caresses,
to recall
the sound of her steps
or the sense of her shape
draped in darkness.