The heretic

Maiori forsan cum timore sententiam in me fertis quam ego accipiam (Perhaps you pronounce this sentence against me with greater fear than I receive it)”

Can you bind a mind
easy as you burn books
or flesh, or is what’s real
deeper than bone,
something dreamed,
something breathed
stronger than air

an infection that cleans
instead of corrupting,
forces the eyes open
not to think

but perhaps see
somewhere in multiple spheres
god dancing

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for GGM

who will bring me butterflies now
in this time of spring peepers and crocuses
before anything opens?

I will watch for you and maybe
see something very much like an angel
but drunk and dirty

whose prayer shakes a fist at god
cursing sky in language earlier than babel

stooping to pick fiddleheads
in these woods, thick-fingered
before staggering towards
some possible heaven

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spring happens

yellow crocuses 001

Forget calendars
Forget light, measured
in axial slant
or day length

spring unfolds
and is less calculation
and more the yellow
crocuses shout
under this kitchen window

where I dreamed them
but never exactly planned

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How to Lose Followers

Susan L Daniels:

Ah, I have done this. I have disappeared for months–not because I don’t want to be all over this incredible community of writers, reading everything, because I do. Unfortunately, that part of my blogging life will not likely come back until after I have corneal surgery of some sort. It is difficult to read anything of substance on the days I am working. Hey, them’s the breaks. If I read your post, I want you to know I blew the typeface up really big and thought it was worth hitting “like” on it. Dammit, you’d better orgasm when I hit like, after all that effort,and a comment should leave you experiencing multiples ;)

LOL, I am reblogging this, and including the second half of my comment as my intro. I did well and truly love this!

Originally posted on Trent Lewin:

You start blogging to have a voice, to be heard and to listen to others.  It’s an outlet that doesn’t involve you having to go through agents, publishers, or other constructs of the industry.  It’s easy.  You get a blog, you start writing, people listen.  You are not a number.  You are a voice.  You are important.  You are heard.

But you better be careful.  You can amass followers to your blog, yes, but there are some sure-fire ways of losing followers too:

1.  Don’t respond to comments people leave you.  If someone writes you, ignore them.  Don’t answer.  Don’t dare answer.  These people leaving comments are like parasites.  Parasites with a lot of time on their hands, to do nothing but comment.  They can’t possibly be interested in you.  They’re just running about commenting on anything, and thus they are the true filth of the blogging world.  It is…

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Posted in New Free Verse | 16 Comments

mother wisdom

Don’t look at the sun
she said; something
that holy, stretched
from the star that feeds us

is hungry for vision,
so starved for eyes
the sheer memory of that light

will be a shadow that burns


***the NaPoWriMo prompt from today involves writing about things we see out of our windows.  I wrote about what I have missed most this winter.

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daisy my eyes

daisy my eyes
so they bloom summer
the way plants know it

unseeing mirrors
of petal and stigma
reflecting sun

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NaPoWriMo Day 5: A Tribute to Buffalo Bill

There are lots of poets from Buffalo
but unlike the Bills
we are not defunct

We who
make over words used
to sing to dance to joy to

make a red unicycle ride
out of form to take a
? as meaning, curved watersmooth-
as the Niagara before falling, silver

the way water mimics metal, no stallion
for the lone ranger to tie and
otherwise break

count ‘em onetwothreefourfive
words, like birds, like pigeonsjustlikethat

makes you believe in Jesus
in all the surrender he
who is before and after was

not belief as much as a
hope beyond handsome
painted-by-numbers god/man

and what i want to know is how do you like your blueeyed boy Mister Death

Today, for NaPoWriMo, I am doing a form called a Golden Shovel.  Hee, hee.  I usually use simple iron ones for outside work.  However, the last word in each line of this poem when read separately is the e. e. cummings poem, “Buffalo Bill’s.”  Hope you like!  I just left the last 2 lines as is, because you just can’t mess with perfection.

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