Since I stumbled, just now, onto an FB share by fellow writer, musician, and wonderful collaborator Songsville, that tells me of NaPoWriMo, I have to try. for one, my songs seem to have stolen my formerly quick-flowing poetry, and for another, I've been sick inside for a week and can use a nudge to get my routines back.
So: Poems everyday till the end of the month. No promises as to the quality!
I'll stop overdoing it when I catch up. Ta, Mari.
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So: Poems everyday till the end of the month. No promises as to the quality!
I'll stop overdoing it when I catch up. Ta, Mari.
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untitled 1
Motionless
In uncut grass
The small, fertile mind of the rabbit
Creates faith
In a warm, safe spot
Another taste of new green or yellow
Without the feel
Of cat’s teeth on his neck
Or the frightening slam of a car door.
The next leap takes him there.
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On Chopin’s “The Awakening”
Ellipses scattered under her sentences
Fixing spots on an emptiness
Of the imagination
A failure to see where a woman alone
Might swim to
Where a woman alone in the world
Might write, without apology
by MK
by MK
3 comments:
Your mum is cool-- loved the way she works in the meta-fantastic realm.
Hey, we have rabbit fencing now but there is still one around somewhere ... we call him the Lone Ranger ... I love that 'next leap' line and the 'fertile mind' ...
I did a load of junk poems yesterday to catch up -- my mum told me about all this
:-)
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