If you were a flower, what kind would you be? How would you feel if you received a bouquet of yourself? If you were a cloud, what shape would you be? How would you feel about meteorologists? If you were a color, what shade would you be? How would you feel if all the lights went out? When holding hands with your poet, do you caress the callous on their middle finger? do you trace the veins and tendons on the back? do you read their palm for clues? When watching a movie in the theater with your poet, do you ask why they were the only one laughing or crying? do you sneak in a bottl ..read more

The leaves beckon me to reach higher taunting with whispery voices then I look down and can’t see the ground Clinging tight to the trunk until I hear the dinner bell and friends gather laughing from the grass It takes twenty minutes and my dignity for the fire department to arrive but at least I didn’t fall (Written with my friends at Charles House after I read some arboreal poetry to them, including Birches by Frost and, of course, Trees by Kilmer ..read more

Things get stuck in my mind, dates, places, trivia. It was useful as a student, less so as a husband. Never forgot an anniversary or a birthday or a lie. Every time she said “no”, I heard “never”. I wish my memory were a fertile field that could be watered and weeded. Instead it’s a cemetery, with every betrayal chiseled. I could forgive but not… Today’s Prompt: Reflect on the concept of memory and its impact on our lives. For today’s Two-for-Tuesday prompt: Write a “(blank) of the Heart” poem, and/or… Write a “Heart of the (blank)” poem. I’m also very proud to announce and a new poem of my h ..read more

Observing the teenage squirrels at play and titmice foraging among the leaves has convinced me. I’m moving out of my apartment and building a treehouse. Now that everything’s green, no one will notice a studio in the branches. I’ll leave my windows open so the birds can perch on the sills. I imagine the crows will be quite interested in my work. The squirrels can run right through the living room and I won’t care. Once they’re used to me, I might even join the chase. And I’ll observe the strange creature living in my old place, face glowing, never singing, never jumping, getting fatter and fa ..read more

on her birthday There once was a woman from Orkney, who was always attracted to dorknies. Quantum Physics, her game and so she became entwined with a strangely charmed quarkney. Happy Birthday to my loyal reader and fellow writer, Bernie Bell! Keen readers of this blog will have noticed that I did not post a poem-a-day yesterday. That’s because I was writing at a wedding with a couple of my fellow poets. We were doing poetry-on-demand for their guests at the reception. The three of us wrote a total of 28 poems, so I more than fulfilled my daily quota ..read more

Asked my doctor why I’m sneezing and bashful She prescribed happy pills but they make me sleepy At least I don’t get dopey For today’s prompt, pick an emotion, make it the title of your poem, and write your poem ..read more

Rain on the tinroof drowses me to sleep in a brave new world of annual thousand-year floods this summer tempest will be what dreams are made of For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Tempest ..read more

for both Ludwigs Beethoven only gave it a number, Piano Sonata Fourteen. Years later the poet Rellstab named it Mondscheinsonate and I will not dispute his license. For when Selene rises at sundown behind the darkened trees and casts a porcelain dagger across the surface of the lake, faint ripples from the breeze tickle the pebbles on shore then poets and composers alike are reminded of your charm and get to work. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that is inspired by a piece of music, and that shares its title with that piece of music. This was obviously inspired by the Moonli ..read more

I live in a small Southern suburban apartment and it could be wiped off its hilltop by a hurricane and I wouldn’t care. It’s just where I sleep and keep my stuff. I would miss the heirlooms and library of poetry books but my home is this laptop. Booting up, is like inserting the key to the front door, icons arranged on the desktop with Feng Shui, data arrayed in tidy directories. Technically, since I upgrade the hardware every few years, the laptop is just the house and the data is my real home. I don’t live in the clouds but my backups do. Today’s Prompt: Create a poem that explores the conc ..read more

On the occasion of her 100,000th mile I talk to my car, probably too much since she never answers. She has taken me from Massachusetts to Florida to the center of our country in Kansas. We’ve witnessed two solar eclipses together, ten Perseid meteor showers and untold starry nights. I feel bad leaving her outside when I visit a museum or library but at least she gets to tramp around the cemeteries with me. She’s a great listener as I rehearse on my way to an open mic. Inspiration regularly rolls when I’m behind her wheel. She’s not my muse but she takes me there. (The above image was taken la ..read more