Photo by Bob Dreizler, SacramentoTHE WISDOM OF ING
—Mitz Sackman, Murphys
Twitching
Witching
Stitching
Waiting
Debating
Creating
Sewing
Flowing
Knowing
___________________
We're breaking out of our rainy-day ruts this week with our Seed of the Week: Experimental Poetry. No judgments—see what your spirit of play can come up with. Send 'em to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726.
___________________
THE EXPERIMENTAL POET
—Richard Zimmer, Sacramento
Scribble, scribble goes the pen.
Words come faster than set down.
Tapping into streams of random thought.
Free flowing poetry is the intended goal.
Jigsaw jumble of words blended into verse.
A poem that wanders…sense and nonsense,
free from meaning…good or bad. T
rudging along, not knowing what comes next.
Humming tunes, keeps a mind free of thought.
Blindly hoping the blank pages will fill up.
Words dragged from a subconscious mind.
In bits and pieces magic words soon appear.
Cruelty has a human heart.
Earthly comforts all have ceased.
A mournful mean despair.
Some are born to an endless night.
The Experimental Poet smiles as his
next poem begins its own journey.
__________________
WITHOUT CAMERA
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
Vikings discover a rockbound shore – right before
my eyes against sunrise, a Bighorn ram – Lewis
& Clark pack their specimens cross-country – what
is that flower faded in my pocket? – the last moments
of Pompeii – a flush-toilet hangs from the floor like
ceiling – a military cargo flies almost underfoot –
a tree contemptuous of precipice – dreadful over-
looking, out-leaning the doubt of a moment – hero,
his eye impossibly bright in the unlit cave, his eye
tortuous – preferring the dead as they are, the roads
running underground. If I’d had a camera – how
could I remember waterfall, your whimsical smile.
__________________
THE COMMITTEE
—Taylor Graham
conceit maggot figment coinage empty sound
—He said she said
—He has the imagination of a cucumber.
—She sees bug-a-bears and dragons.
Oh ruckety road please take me home
pollen-dust free on the air as figment falling leaves
coining empty sound. Words and scribble scrabble.
—Everyone sitting on metal listening to the clock
ticking away legend fairytale and myth.
Outside it’s snowing, heaping snow crystals
in waves and dunes, whiting out the road.
Outside it’s volcano-blast orange, the sun breaks
through. Whimsy vagary extravaganza.
—Talking points drone out the right to roam.
—Emitting enough breathed-out air to grow
a rainforest in the middle of the room.
—Everybody sitting on their eminent domains.
___________________
AMANUENSIS
—Taylor Graham
O curious arcanum: Orion rises in Aries, Mars
crosses Samaria, Sun is in Cancer, Sirius arcs
Mexico as azoic aeons carve caverns, cornices,
crevasses. Moons ensure cave-ins, variances.
Caseosaurus consumes corms or crania. Zeus
arrives. Swine circus amuses Circe. A Siren’s
canon: music summons mariners. Can a rose’s
aroma ensnare Mesozoic nuns? Can rosaries
reassure conscience, as incense eases reason?
Sermons warn surcease. Corsair, courier, or
assassin, man wavers, worries, waxes, wanes,
remains as carcass, as anima.
__________________
Today's LittleNip:
Everything I did in my life that was worthwhile I caught hell for.
—Chief Justice Earl Warren
—Mitz Sackman, Murphys
Twitching
Witching
Stitching
Waiting
Debating
Creating
Sewing
Flowing
Knowing
___________________
We're breaking out of our rainy-day ruts this week with our Seed of the Week: Experimental Poetry. No judgments—see what your spirit of play can come up with. Send 'em to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726.
___________________
THE EXPERIMENTAL POET
—Richard Zimmer, Sacramento
Scribble, scribble goes the pen.
Words come faster than set down.
Tapping into streams of random thought.
Free flowing poetry is the intended goal.
Jigsaw jumble of words blended into verse.
A poem that wanders…sense and nonsense,
free from meaning…good or bad. T
rudging along, not knowing what comes next.
Humming tunes, keeps a mind free of thought.
Blindly hoping the blank pages will fill up.
Words dragged from a subconscious mind.
In bits and pieces magic words soon appear.
Cruelty has a human heart.
Earthly comforts all have ceased.
A mournful mean despair.
Some are born to an endless night.
The Experimental Poet smiles as his
next poem begins its own journey.
__________________
WITHOUT CAMERA
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
Vikings discover a rockbound shore – right before
my eyes against sunrise, a Bighorn ram – Lewis
& Clark pack their specimens cross-country – what
is that flower faded in my pocket? – the last moments
of Pompeii – a flush-toilet hangs from the floor like
ceiling – a military cargo flies almost underfoot –
a tree contemptuous of precipice – dreadful over-
looking, out-leaning the doubt of a moment – hero,
his eye impossibly bright in the unlit cave, his eye
tortuous – preferring the dead as they are, the roads
running underground. If I’d had a camera – how
could I remember waterfall, your whimsical smile.
__________________
THE COMMITTEE
—Taylor Graham
conceit maggot figment coinage empty sound
—He said she said
—He has the imagination of a cucumber.
—She sees bug-a-bears and dragons.
Oh ruckety road please take me home
pollen-dust free on the air as figment falling leaves
coining empty sound. Words and scribble scrabble.
—Everyone sitting on metal listening to the clock
ticking away legend fairytale and myth.
Outside it’s snowing, heaping snow crystals
in waves and dunes, whiting out the road.
Outside it’s volcano-blast orange, the sun breaks
through. Whimsy vagary extravaganza.
—Talking points drone out the right to roam.
—Emitting enough breathed-out air to grow
a rainforest in the middle of the room.
—Everybody sitting on their eminent domains.
___________________
AMANUENSIS
—Taylor Graham
O curious arcanum: Orion rises in Aries, Mars
crosses Samaria, Sun is in Cancer, Sirius arcs
Mexico as azoic aeons carve caverns, cornices,
crevasses. Moons ensure cave-ins, variances.
Caseosaurus consumes corms or crania. Zeus
arrives. Swine circus amuses Circe. A Siren’s
canon: music summons mariners. Can a rose’s
aroma ensnare Mesozoic nuns? Can rosaries
reassure conscience, as incense eases reason?
Sermons warn surcease. Corsair, courier, or
assassin, man wavers, worries, waxes, wanes,
remains as carcass, as anima.
__________________
Today's LittleNip:
Everything I did in my life that was worthwhile I caught hell for.
—Chief Justice Earl Warren
Exit Photo Enhancement by D.R. Wagner, Elk Grove
_________________
—Medusa
—Medusa