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.
Tag: poetry
Birthday, Christmas and Father’s Day Gifts: Some Advice
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
Two-fer-Tuesday on Wednesday
under this lonely moon bemused by a solitary goose 'wonkg'— wanting the perfect V migration
Late. Aspen leaves rustle shake glints of harvest moon— GeWongk of geese fades south. In response to the Ragtag Community WoD: panoply
The Child in Toe Shoes
She bends her bones to fling them high, a gawky graceful, nearly flawless dance, but the stodgy Envies snicker why slipper pinches will one day wince a cry against the hour she donned them just to dance, she bends her bones to fling them high. Spare no worry on the gargling sigh of those old … Continue reading The Child in Toe Shoes
Sabbath Day
Willow grove bows and nods articulating wind’s whim on which hawk rides, hunts Posted in response to both of the Ragtag Community Word of the Day: adulation, as well as, well, articulate. Thanks, guys and gals.
Even Green is Gray
further off, the second bank of trees just shadows, hints in mists, the next bank, only shapes of fog, and beyond that, the unvaried dense of gray. But, even gray, the grass is greener, rain polished clean of drought, it shines, and flowers glow with rubies, golds and blues beside slate paths, bright in the … Continue reading Even Green is Gray
Long walk, looking for the muse Home at last! “Take your shoes off!” She is mopping floors. In response to the RDP word prompt fungible
All morning I wait— blank paper, no poems—on the window are moths, waiting too. In response to the Ragtag Community daily prompt contact
wind-play bows whole groves, but today, just one grass stem dips— zephyr? grasshopper?
