Poem#9 – Tapestry

•April 10, 2011 • 3 Comments

Today’s prompt comes from Shanna Germain.

From the prompt: Metonymy is, according to Wikipedia, “a figure of speech used in rhetoric in which a thing or concept is not called by its own name, but by the name of something intimately associated with that thing or concept.”

I think I missed the mark on the prompt, but here’s my offering for today:




we are not

our parents lost dreams

we are not shackled by


but strive to create

our own



Poem#8 – Revelations at Junaluska

•April 9, 2011 • 1 Comment

Today’s prompt comes from Nikki Magennis.

“What I would like you to consider is lifelines – what we rely on when we’re incapacitated. What we use to comfort ourselves, to connect ourselves to the outside world. What do you hope will save you?”


Revelations at Junaluska


I want to sink beneath

the flannel and down with

Sanchez and Cisneros

an audience of embers

and only the distant memory

that there are six billion other people

in this world


Electric air reminds me of you

but can I afford such memories?

Two hundred miles may as well be

two million

when the snow capped mountains outside

resemble our last conversation


Three-thirty a.m. and its still snowing.

I have come here to search for answers

because that is what men do

travel aeons into the wilderness

return to civilization weeks later

more confused than ever before

or even worse

with the wrong answers

like Moses


I would make a pilgrimage to

your Mecca     place my faith

in your Quran

if I thought God to be any less

than who she really is


but here,

on this day without a shrine,

electricity or phone


there is only the hiss and spark

of the fire

a pen and blank page

and all the promise

of a new beginning


Poem#7 – Fuck.

•April 8, 2011 • 3 Comments

I really started out following today’s prompt, which is amazing, but these marathon poems tend to have a mind of their own…




Too much knowledge

upsets the balance of time

You become an anachronism


Not that people would believe

your prophetic ramblings


Some found that out the hard way.


For example,

no one needs to know

with absolute certainty

what really happens

after you die


It’s like telling people

there’s a free five star hotel

around the corner from

your shitty ass pay-by-the-hour


Who the hell would stick around?


We all just came here

to fuck, anyway.

To touch feel see taste smell

something not so perfect

but perfectly


Poem#6 – Come Spring (Haikus)

•April 7, 2011 • 1 Comment

Today’s prompt comes from poet Bill Noble:



Come Spring (Haikus)


Technicolor dreams

behind the door of winter

dancing in the light




Seeds of our laughter

that we spill into the earth

are secret no more



Poem#5 – dysfunctional

•April 6, 2011 • 6 Comments

Today’s prompt comes courtesy of Jeremy Edwards:




we are ink blots

on a page


cue card number five

in a psychiatrist’s office


those who don’t know us

assume we’re the perfect couple


those who do

can’t believe we’re still together


whether it’s a cereal

or bacon and eggs kind of morning


you know just how i take it

and sometimes, that’s all that matters

Poem#4 – The Waiting Room

•April 5, 2011 • 1 Comment

For today’s prompt, I used the book The Creation of the Night Sky by Nicholas Christopher. The lines are: behind the rising curtain, past the broken statues, and horizon.


The Waiting Room


Outside the window

behind the rising curtain

a man fumbles for his keys.


It’s been this way forever–

one watches, one dances

time goes on.


The rain doesn’t make

this mundane task

any easier

or less routine


But, if we are lucky

past the broken statues

and crumbled ruins


a flash of pink or crimson

one day appears on the horizon

to make it all




Poem#3 – Untitled

•April 3, 2011 • 4 Comments

For today’s poem, I used the prompt provided by Kirsty Logan, over at Shanna Germain’s  Not Without Poetry challenge. Shanna has provided a wonderful forum for us to challenge ourselves as poets during the month of April, by writing, and posting  a poem a day. It’s also a great way to meet fellow poets, and read some really cool work.




The truth is



talking heads voicing opinions

of no consequence,




We listen in rapt silence

to the white noise all around us

one hundred inch plasma

on every wall


At the airport,

an entire store

dedicated to the madness


The lobby is crowded

people streaming in from

the bitter cold


They said check your courage here.


We shucked our values

our beliefs


they were confiscated at



Their slant is evident.

but only if we open

our eyes.

Poem#2 – Winter

•April 2, 2011 • 7 Comments


Between the silence

and the chaos


there is always a moment

of longing


where we run

to the old house

that used to shelter us


push through

the tattered fence

that used to guard us


climb through

the broken out windows

that once kept us warm


steal of few moments of peace

from the past


carry them,

melting like snow

into the present


National Poetry Month

•April 1, 2011 • 1 Comment

Well, April is here, which means National Poetry Month is upon us! I will be taking up the challenge of writing & posting a poem a day for the entire month. Last year, fellow blogger Erobintica, as well as others,  did a great job posting every day, and I told myself that come next year, if I haven’t yet abandoned my blog and retired my writing pen, I’m gonna give it a shot. So…let the poetry begin!



When Cumberland Falls

angels wept

at your feet

sweet majesty and divinity

god’s breath pushed

from your belly

her joyous tears

your overflowing stream


i will dream of your childhood

how free it must have been

of debris

of pollution

of technology

of man



photo: Cumberland Falls, Corbin, KY

Recommended Reads

•March 28, 2011 • Leave a Comment

This is a beautiful post by Redbud, called Stranger. It is a haunting piece of prose taking the reader on a wonderful erotic journey through the eyes a man obsessed with a beautiful woman. Oh, and there’s a breathtaking photo to go along with it. Here’s a sample:

I am always with you.

I am the stranger you always imagine.

I am the masculine who always comes to you. I don’t frighten you because you summon me. I don’t have a name because you prefer me without one.

I am the stranger who looks at you when your back is turned. I look at your hips, your waist, the promises your body makes. I am a connoisseur. You cannot step outside and go unseen by me, unimagined by me.

Read it in it’s entirety here.


I recently had the pleasure of finding the blog EroticabyAthena. I had a hard time deciding which post of hers to sample here because there is so much good work there. But here is a snippet of one of my fav’s, called Impartial:

He had beautiful hands. Just like you. The kind of hands that would know exactly how to touch me – without any questions.
He was stoic but there was an edge to him. Like he was capable of going from the nicest guy you’ll ever meet to the biggest dick on the face of the planet in the space of two words and three steps.
Yeah, he’d know exactly how to fuck me.


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