Tag Archives: verse

wOo girl (from the Block)


 
How to win

(imaginary)

friends

(back)

and influence people

(made of fiction)

–first, write

a note of apology

. . .

— love letters lamenting & lining up alliteratively

like a

“to do” list, but a “to do” list with character!

(s)

avowals!

maybe even a diphthong or 2, enabling the creation

of prototypes every novel needs, if no perfume before

checking boxes.

invisible boxes in Original PC

once___

upon___

a time___

& sending expansive flowered

(thoughts)

— purpled prosies,

gilded girdeds, and

rose of sharron–

their way

–somewhere off synapse route #66

(where else!)

followed by changing weighs.

Personal weighs.

Permuting poetic measures of an intrinsically different caliber

that can be hard to discern without rule initially, so skip the acronym–

next honey.

not saccharine, not sugar,

and most decidedly not stevia,

this all natural state of mind is

bon

(bon!)

ensuring the pretend pals are themselves agreeable

to palette, pen, and projection

and making up for better company, instead of just desserts

–finally presence.

undivided presence of mime, and why not?

imaginary friends are

the

target audience

for the ole

“fake it til you make it” axiom,

tying in coincidentally with checking boxes but

what else?

well, presence.

–of mind, this time

that necessarily implies

presence

of mine

–which in fact AND fantasy–

are.

those same imaginary friends

–gone missing.

 

 

the sOmething in nOthing

the void conjures

. . .

making silence hum

—-embellishes

tinting white blue

–adds

mirror images long departed

–tangles

disparate action in quantum fields

–separates

hues in darkest nights

–discerns

the statue in the rock

. . .

its nothingness

the isness on which all

unwinds

–a tapestry woven

in temporal fabric.

Sub Text

Smith is good with words

(all write)

and Art—with conversation,

Gabby’s gift is mainly

–discourse and oration. . .

 

Cathy likes to chat

(too much)

while Miles keeps the minutes,

Abel will debate the bull–

with doctors if they spin it

 

Simon’s prone to say

(it’s said)

all those on stage will whisper

but twisted—I—will scream and shout,

to lookie-loos and listeners. . .

 

REMover


Muse

missing make-up,

–each character

imprints

hard.

Just woke up after too much whine–

hard.

and in this Glare

of winter morning

edges

and

imperfections

show. . .

foundational nuance

a cake-y thing,

every tittle

a mascara blotch,

all emphasis

lined lip gaudy,

drawn clown-like outside of mouth

–the fire just

Rexall

rouge.

 

Caged Fight


size of a fist,

heart beats your chest–

battering ribs

pummeling blood

and

pounding your ears

–bruising you

from the inside out.

Some stone,

some gold knuckled,

some without gloves,

it’s too obstinate

to concede. . . .

it’s only when

it decides to skip it

. . .

altogether

. .

are you

knocked out

.

of the ring

 

prompt: one way

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