This #monthofpoetry, has been as much about re-kindling my poetic license much more than it was about forced churning out of a daily product. I’ve been going through my past writings and developing half thoughts into 3/4 thoughts (there is always room for editing) and while I’ve not written every day, poetry and writing have…
Month: June 2023
June 24 – MyPoWriMo: We’re starving
There are starving people in America. There are starving people, in America. There are starving people, in America. There are starving People in America There, in America, people are starving. – Rebecca Cramer “Food is national security. Food is economy. It is employment, energy, history. Food is everything.” — Chef José Andrés, founder of World Central…
June 23 – MyPoWriMo:Screw the poodle
Obviously, I was a bit angry when I wrote this during my under grad years (circa 1996? maybe?). I remember the poem, but not the people who offended me. Isn’t that always the case? Little lap dog Do I offend? Does my rapier pen and pagan ways make your -uptight -upright milk-toast spine twist? I’ve…
June 22 – MyPoWriMo: Girl in Blue
Hey there blue girl With your sad eyes and blue from head to shoe. Don’t you know that blue is the color of song birds, and berries, forget-me-nots, big open sky, and deep rolling sea? Blue, in nature, is rare . But it exists A little flash of color an otherwise bland of browns and…
June 17 – MyPoWriMo – Tahlequah’s Daughter
What sort of resolve does it take to keep your own head afloat after the loss of a mother? …Or a child? What is that magic combination of will and tenacity that can reignite a drive to go on- Without? What does it take to swim Deep. Into the depths and haul the sinking dead…
June 16 – MyPoWriMo
What IS poetry? Is it the long winded description of something un-see-able? Un-touchable? The sweet worded sonnet to a lover past? Is it the angry slam-type, ram-type, in-your-face-words-that-come-on-like-a freight train? Is poetry soft? Structured hard like a haiku? (Flower-Petaled rain?) Is it rhythm like a sonnet of old? Or free, like crumpled-trash-origami in the rain…
June, 14- MyPoWriMo
Oklahoma feels like a rough wool sweater. Warm and comforting at times Tight and oppressive at others But always scratchy. The red dirt gets into your lungs Those long views out over the expansive drawn out plains silhouetting a lonely copse of trees. A jack-pump, or a windmill. Pokin up like barbed wire across the…
June 13 – MyPoWriMo: Gayatri mantra
Feral Buddhist (I think I lost my Buddha nature at the grocery, somewhere between the mustard greens and the lady with the spider monkey.) Yet, still, I sit And emit Frequent frequency of love and light Projected into space from an open heart. The piece of peace we all crave Is in our own heads….
June 12 – MyPoWriMo: My Mother’s Horde
One of the best components of a self directed writing project is I get to determine, if I need a day, or two off to let my thoughts settle a bit. I have lots of writing to cull through. And so many thought I was to get to paper, but I’m still struggling with putting…
June 6- MyPoWriMo: Paging, Major Tom
Universal mala interstitial ether cells strung together breath by breath curling through helix uniting combining coalescing entwining Vein-like Mapping the flow Chi igniting cells dividing weaving changing into ever the same but never the same Always new always different. Always and forever unique but common Emptiness is realizing that your cells your space between the…