Lee Robison's poem "Love Has No Moon" to appear in anthology.
Eric Studdard was working on his three hundred and twenty-third masterpiece. This one would be a winner for sure. He had spent the better part of an hour on it and the poem was currently two hundred and ninety-seven words long, with thirty-one lines and seven and ¾ completed verses. It was composed along the … Continue reading “Cynosure” Fumbles a Masterpiece
She’s no mealymouth art, that damned mother of wordbirth— nothing fickle about that old tart. Honest as the odor of earth true as you in all your affairs, she is nothing—only your worth. How you carry her loamy dares to amend the alter altar you’ve built of your damaged despair will tell only the soily … Continue reading For Student Poet Dreaming of Inspiration
Water, you would say to me, is God and kneel to touch your lips to water and water softened soil and with your ever thirst suck deep within you the body and the blood of the only holy you could will your love— I have never had Another and will not. Though I sup at … Continue reading Irrigator’s Prayer
Here in the silence, the smoldering dark, breathing the smoke of smothering, the odor of smoke and grave earth mingling, he moves his ocher wand. The bull is earth and mind. His terror at what he makes is less than the joy, much less than who have just left mother above to find this bull … Continue reading The Shaman in the Cave
She prays: “the rainbow— It's the full promise of god!” He sniffs the wet earth. In response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt word: petrichor. And the Word of the Day Challenge kin .
Snowing. Grass stems bow the only sounds: hissing wind And last summer’s chime
To empower a writer show them the Oxford English Dictionary, steal their grammar text book, and fire their spell checker. The good ones will manage regardless; the so-so will do fine; and the bad ones will fault out.
Lavender, scarlet, emerald or sky mottled blue! Or (if you must purchase white) mother of pearl. I’m tired of pea office green and deadly plain suits I don’t wear and am belittled for not by insinuating, superior, Misses, Mrs.s, ms.s, madams, misters, and sirs who snoot and practically sniff (unless they’re assessing sallow or black). … Continue reading Birthday, Christmas and Father’s Day Gifts: Some Advice
under this lonely moon bemused by a solitary goose 'wonkg'— wanting the perfect V migration