I woman I knew once caught a talking frog So she said. The frog – leopard variety – large, green Not only spoke but could read preferring Studs Terkel Rhetorically asking the frog what would happen if she kissed him he replied ‘nothing’ Curiosity piqued,…
Category: Marathon Poem
Contradiction (Hour 11)
Contradiction is a multi- branched tree trunk standing lifeless in a lush green field
Mirthful Haiku
Mirth breaks loose: we fall a tangled heap on the floor. So many smiles burst.
Board Game
Board Game Life’s a board game of pits and stones of deceit and dreams of intrigues and ideologies of heroes and hopes to win is to play well Hour 8 @varenyas
Blissful Contagion (2022 Poem 11)
Grown ups chuckle with delight Until we can barely breathe Worries left outside our door Brought into the present with a snap Elders guffaw in shared surprise Until ribs are sore and aching Memories of best loved times Complaints are all forgotten Babies chortle gleefully…
Some Days
Each morning, I orchestrate an array of multivitamins from a kitchen counter graced with a frame containing a 1983 postcard image of Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne and a travel book to Spain. After swallowing the roughly half a dozen supplements, I quake down…
Entwined – hour 11
Hour 11, Prompt 11 (the twisted tree image) Entwined (this one is by the character Nigel Taiman from my world of Onweald) I might have forgotten this day to mention when the first sun spread dawn’s pale blue across our bed how perfectly…
Far away
It lingers in its longing. So distant yet so close in any circumstance. You think about it constantly; is it your salvation or just another false prophecy? Has it been your calling all along or merely a last resort? You need to consider, analyze…
You were supposed to be
This was not the plan How could it be? For you to be there with him and for me to again be alone You were never committed to this that is clear to me now This was our problem How do you not see that?…
Hour Eleven: Old Tree
Hour Eleven: Old Tree Limbs tangled, twisting, entwining each other, like children playing Twister or the perfect Eagle pose centuries of wind sweeping across the desert nudging the winding of supple bark now hardened into wizened shape. The tree barely leaves yet stands even now…