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Monthly Archives: April 2017
Good Grief: rimas dissolutas
Good grief! What else did you expect? A world set suddenly to rights, some glibly promised golden dawn, rough places sanded down to plain, and milk and honey handed out to both devout and infidel? Instead, you got a fresh … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, blindness, French verse forms, grief, hypocrisy, lies, poetic forms, rimas dissolutas
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The Critic: riddle
Who tears apart, but never builds; in summer, says he prefers chills; proclaims “I won’t” when others will; expects to never pay the bill? Who tends to “no”, withholding “yes”; predicts more failure than success; looks to curse rather than … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, criticism, critics, illusion, negativity, poetic forms, relationship, riddle, self-denial
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Lose or Win: rhupunt
What may begin as lose or win soon starts to spin outside that frame. It seems like play, this bob and sway: a bright display, almost a game, a wild careen, drifting between two wide extremes, darkness and flame. Always … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, art, beginnings, endings, loss, perspective, poetic forms, rhupunt, victory, Welsh verse forms
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Idol
Don’t want to be an American idol, good for a season and then tossed away; held up like Jesus and the King James Bible, blamed for the country’s future going astray. Don’t want to be an American idol, hawking potato … Continue reading
Wake Early: rhopalic verse
Wake early, quietly, deliberate; look closely, carefully, attentively. Pay greater attention, specifically, to whispers: lingering, ephemeral. 26 APR 2017 Share This:
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, awakening, morning, poetic forms, purpose, rhopalic verse
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Day Flight: rannaigheacht mhor
Each new day is so fleeting: like a busy bee flitting between its sweet hits, floating, never slowing nor quitting. Life’s made of days flying: sighed hellos and then goings. Through each room we go gliding: near colliding, then dying. … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, brevity, illusion, Irish verse forms, life, poetic forms, rannaigheacht mhor, time
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Little Bird: rannaigheacht ghairid
Little bird: did you think that no one heard your bright melody at dawn, long gone before day’s first word? Seems absurd that your little tune conferred on my thoughts such peaceful ease across the breeze, little bird. 17 APR … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, birds, Irish verse forms, morning, poetic forms, rannaigheacht ghairid, song
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