Category Archives: Gods

hers/his master’s voice

oh, my dog, why have you forsaken me?

faithful pal, where are you now?

not a woof or whimper around here now

though i see my face in your silky pupil still

the warmth of your heart warms my feet at night

the confident stride that matched mine missing still

no other paw prints but mine drawn in the sand

still

i’m here waiting, oh my dog, your water bowl is filled

oh, doggone-it

you’re gone, non?

i search for answers

so

scooby doo, where are you?

lassie, please come home

snoopy, i hear you say~ you only die once but live every day

muttly, you snigger so dastardly, is the joke on me?

toto knows though, there’s no place like home

….. the light bulb moment…

i cock my ears and hear

listen for the subliminal whistle

calling her/him calling me

oh my dog, i got it wrong?

or backwards?

god only knows…

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not a haiku

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NaPoWriMo day 17:-

’s a prompt developed by the comic artist Lynda Barry, and it asks you to think about dogs you have known, seen, or heard about, and then use them as a springboard into wherever they take you.

so the moon looks small

NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with white background
NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with black background

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there’s no comparison 

my ex had one the size of a hard haribo sweet

tinysweet and beat

with regularity

proclaiming basic humanity without musicality

normality — or so I thought

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you can get used to smallness

or meanness

you can get perplexed by it 

and yet

                                                when we met

i couldn’t see the trees for it

obscured by my habitual vision

thought they were all                              small

but like the moon it was just a question of perspective 

and proximity

we

                                                             got close

                         closer still, my love

my love had one the size of a planet

a heart — so huge as to eclipse all others

no one could see it 

so huge was it

it blocked out the perfect though magnificent

it had craters and lakes

on a landscape formed by energy          synergy

unheard of

unimagined

no one could see the size of it 

except

                                         kaleidoscopically

                         retrospectively

it couldn’t be trusted

to last

light years of liquid and dust 

filled it

even from this distance i felt it

beat

unorderlily complexilily godliliy

silly really

as finalily

it super-love-

nova-ed

from his chest

in a burst

that hurt my eyes

killing him

while creating stars

for my eyes

my entire universe

expires

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not a haiku

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a love poem as well

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NaPoWriMo day 11:-

write a poem about a very large thing. It could be a mountain or a blue whale or a skyscraper or a planet or the various contenders for the honor of being the Biggest Ball of Twine. Whatever giant thing you choose, I hope this chance to versify in praise of the huge gets your poetic engines humming.

https://www.napowrimo.net

how cool is this!

hiya!!!

NaPoWriMo day 4

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up to my feet

higher than ever

ever was

my knees awash with blush

blue as the sun

come to kiss

incessantly

.

unpredictable dangle, my hips

swung undone, clicking in places, ungripped

angles untongued, unhorizoned, unzipped

come to pass

over

and over

caress

where i was

.

heels over head

like a wheel

bums up, pants down

what a feeling!

i’m not burning. i promise

i’m adonis!

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warming my jets

upended by toes

detached from all that ever

ever was

i’m not falling. i promise

i’m gaia! i’m higher

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i’m fearless, trawling stars

a mess, a tangle of hair, a thicket of air

sketching nothing nothing that

ever was

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i’m not flying. i’m goddess

i promise. look !

no hands! no stands!

imagine this!

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nb

Adonis : God of beauty, fertility , permanent renewal. Greek mythology.

Gaia: Personification of the Earth. Greek mythology.

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NaPoWriMo

https://www.napowrimo.net/

In honor of the always-becoming nature of poetry, I challenge you today to select a photograph from the perpetually disconcerting @SpaceLiminalBot, and write a poem inspired by one of these odd, in-transition spaces. Will you pick the empty mall food court? The vending machine near the back entrance to the high school gym? The swimming pool at what seems to be M.C. Escher’s alpine retreat? No matter what neglected or eerie space you choose, I hope its oddness tugs at the place in your mind and heart where poems are made.