Stoked

  The moon’s fingernail scrapes a far away gazer’s thoughts, breaking open her mind, freeing a thousand love songs stoked with lunar dust.  

Lost and Translation

I found these poems sandwiched between the pages of The Hand of the Poet: Poems and Papers in Manuscript, a beautiful volume of drafts and redrafts from poets like Julia Alvarez and Philip Levine, Robert Frost and Allen Ginsberg. At the time, I knew this would be an appropriate place for this little copied and […]

Heads or Tales

5 lines, day 5   I pledge to read each day’s oncoming slaughter as a penniless dark spur opening beneath a cataclysm of daisies

Five lines (day two)

elliptical shifts bequeath February with truant light; shape shifter skies— like lamppost bulbs—following the timed ascent to evening

Five lines

Years ago, when I fell into what is sometimes referred to as “writer’s block,” I found an outlet in haiku, tanka, cinquain, and other short form poems. I made a pledge to myself to write three lines a day, sometimes five. I was able to keep it up for over a year, until the file […]

Four Tankas

The moon’s fingernail scrapes a far away gazer’s thoughts, breaking open her mind, freeing a thousand love songs stoked with lunar dust. East-blowing storms coil above night’s descending horizon. Stars pop from showering brushstrokes across blue lingering breath. I pledge to read each day’s oncoming slaughter as a penniless dark spur opening beneath a cataclysm […]