Category: Poet?

  A Man Like Any Other   He closes eyes made gritty By stolen hours of sleep.     He=s solid only–in realms     Of shadows and unspoken despair. He blindly reaches out To grasp what he cannot see, To find purchase in another night Spent upright, in a lone kitchen chair.   To the outside…

To those who have been with me since the beginning, this will be familiar.  But I’ve always kind of liked this one, so I thought I’d post it again for the Poetry Train passengers. 🙂    Self-Appointed Paragon      She lords it over every gathering As if hers is the example to uphold. She speaks with fat…

I get a ton of traffic to this page off the search engines from people doing image searches on hands.  If you like this image and want to know more about it, it came from this page  and it’s by Manu M in India. 😉   Hands Look at your hands, she says       Strong…

Monolith by Rinda Elliott She stands in the midst of chaos, Tall and proud, Shoulders braced to absorb The constant flow of appeals. A mediator. Deputed peacemaker. A monolith. Anchored in obligation, Her strength of will, Forged in the staggering weight Of family burden, Bears the shape of a star, Pinned to her breast by…

I’ve decided to join the Monday Poetry Train.  Click here to visit Rhian’s blog, the writer behind this wonderful new idea.  She also invites you to join the train and add your site to the links. I think this is great.  The world can always use a little more poetry. Creation’s Battle By Rinda Elliott…

I had actually planned to devote a couple of days a week to poetry for April’s National Poetry Month and time got away from me. If you’re in the mood for some great poetry, visit  Mad Below My Feet .  She has done such a great job representing the genre this month.  Her own work is stark,…

I had planned to do a part two with more instrumental pieces, but my heart is sad today. It is National Poetry Month and I had planned to showcase different poets off and on. I hope it’s okay with Jack that I showcase him today. My stint in the local poetry scene was brief, but…

Image by Hannes digicam.coza – Users Subterranean Thought by me Ground dweller, Seeking answers In the landscape of being. Trapped under a canopy Of idealism. Unfold a repertoire Gone yellow and brittle. Skim the middle words. A foray, one might think Into something new. Spend the afternoon hours Immersed, In the mysticism of a carrot….

I have The Writer’s Idea Book by Jack Heffron and in one chapter, “Don’t Get Me Started,” he gives prompts for anger writing. Yeah! Get it out on paper, I say! One of the prompts was to write a list of anger sparkers or pet peeves, then freewrite about one or more of them. I…