Friday, April 10, 2015

DAy 9 In the Mood for Love film prompt

"DAY 9
’'Watch this clip from In The Mood for Love twice. And then go make something of it, following these guidelines 
- No more than 28 lines
- Include a pair of homonyms (e.g., ‘rite’ and ‘right,’ or ‘dear’ and ‘deer’)
- Consider ‘drift’ and ‘light’
- Consider anatomy (but not the heart, eyes, or lips); and
- A line, phrase, or name taken from this Wikipedia entry on the lunar maria and the mare basalts ( )’’
And here’s the clip from In The Mood For Love! 

She descends with care
a dark passage to a deep hearth
past lamplight‘s arc,
long narrow stairs
to a crowded ark
where men work food forges
attend their singular alchemies for few cents
Fill her green thermos with delicious scents
nourishment’s promise of wanting more
She’s a sylph, a fixed, pristine curve
Ascends from the sweat, heat and steam
of the night kitchen, her semaphor swerves
float up the fragrant well
slink, rising to an unvisoned street
Violins sing of delectable things
swirl of her hips, her high heeled dance
his handsome face, a lingering glance
drifts in the heart’s corridor.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

a funeral in my brain

"Find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read – and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now  rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it! "

Felt a funeral in my brain
mourners kept treading
tromping, threading
winding frayed embrace
until it seemed each sense was breaking
when they all were seated 
a service like a drum kept beating
until my mind lost place
then i heard them lift a box
and creak across my soul
with those same boots of lead
then space began to toll
all the heavens were a bell
and being, but an ear
silence, some strange race,
wrecked solitary here
then a plank in reason broke
i dropped down and down
hit new worlds at every plunge
cracked barriers of sound

and finished knowing then  

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Day Four: The prompt to write a love poem

No More Better

Caffeine jangles, frays, revs nerves
can't drink anymore
though the distant scent
from neighbors' morning brews
arrives with dew and fog strolling
mist shined streets, is welcome
once our time for once more
how I now greet grey dawn
sniffing for the chocolate scent
of unforgotten thrills
shared brews after shared

Mountains, Valleys, Forests, Music

Prompt 3 4/4
p. 37 from the 7 Types of Ambiguity
I began with crossing out, then used an OCR and rearranged.

Mountains, Valleys, Forests, Music

Is meaning possible from these notions?
We are at last in possession of all that might have been

Morning brings hope, light and labour,
evening rest, play and despair
They are the variety of Nature,
Venus, whom one dare not name,
and Mercury, who will bring no news of her

Mountaines, haunts of Pan for lust and Diana for chastity,
to both of these lovers appeal
for banishment; impossibility and impotence,
difficulty and achievement; greatness –
They give you the peace, or the despair, of the grave;
They are the distant things behind which the sun rises and sets,
the too near things which shut in your valley;
deserted wastes, and the ample pastures
to which you drive up cattle for the summer

Vallies hold nymphs, yet are the normal places
are your whole world, your voice can affect the whole of them;
places of shelter and comfort,
places of humility and affliction ;
rich with flowers and warmth,
dark hollows between the hills.

Forests, valuable and accustomed, are desolate and hold danger;
though wild and sterile, there are both nightingales and owls
Their beasts, give the strong pleasures of hunting;
Their burning is useful or destructive
They give freedom for contemplation,
Their trunks are symbols of pride.

Music, at once more and less direct than talking,
may please or distress,
belong to despair and the deaths of swans
It may share living beauty
be an inmate of celestial spheres,
illuminating occasions
on which each Nature is used
if we had understood

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Already the day has sprung from bright to grey

Already the day has sprung from bright to grey
going the wrong way and too fast
I want the quiet yellow spring light to last
not surrender by mid morning to dregs of winter slate.
8 am an uncertain voice leaves a message
too early for acknowledgment or reply
that was the hour for the last dream
the snuggle against dawnbreak's  parting chill
too soon to begin the struggle with loss
and tony expectations
the hour after the bird's first song
just before the children swarm toward containment
and cars of workers push their way
toward indifferent metal desks
today I heard the geese honk
once more

Sunday, April 28, 2013


The one whose name is yours seduced a king

Spent a year in harem, perfumed daily

Clever virgin asked what pleasured Xerxes

One night, her informed delights made her Queen

Her uncle Mordecai kept faith nearby,

toiled in low office, saved the Regents life

When an ancient enemy reappears

says she must reveal she is a jewish wife,

undo death decrees, avert her people’s slaughter

To see the  king unbidden would be death

“Through feast, by wiles, I’ll avert disaster.

Fast, pray 3 days, I’ll prove my people’s daughter”

As with you by wit, by will, delivered

Though unnamed, God’s saving grace is rendered

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Hungry in America

-->I count bread slices
2 each day is still
a day without
!/2 an avocado will last 8 days
but they ripen into urgency
one is gone already
the frozen fish is six days
the stringbeans, too
nothing lasts for seven
there will always be
one empty belly waking
40 years ago I was hungry
as I worked on the degrees
I thought would feed me
And they did for awhile
The weather has changed
Spring is cold, the insects
swarm on the warm days
As if they know  that night
will kill them how
short their tiny lives
have become.