The Regular
Every day is Monday now
but far less challenging
than any other Monday, ever.
His morning coffee is
brewed by total strangers,
all of whom he loves dearly.
No one asks him anything;
they only smile and nod
as he shuffles by, nodding.
He can’t recall their names
and he’s fairly certain
that he’s anonymous, too.
He’s glad to be at home.
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dVerse Poets Pub
Tuesday Poetics Challenge
~ At The Restaurant ~
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On The Bright Side (Tanka)
All my days, these days,
feel like Mondays used to feel
when weekends ended
but I get a second cup
and I don’t have to get dressed.
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Tuesday Twiglet #291
~ all my days ~
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It’s Quadrille Monday again at the dVerse Poets Pub; time to create a 44-word poem.
This week, we’re asked to create a poem using the word “Type” or some word that incorporates it.
Thanks to De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) for hosting and getting us started.
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Vincent Quits Poetry
Sick of versification, he knew
he’d never type another word.
He went home,
fired up the table saw,
removed his fingers.
Silence reigned.
Pages remained blank.
Halfway around the globe
she read all about it in the news.
She was glad they never married.
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dVerse Poets Pub
Quadrille Monday #157
~ What’s Your Type? ~
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Sentencing
He majored in English and
he’d been using it
since he learned to speak.
He was pretty sure that
“Life in prison without parole”
was an oxymoron.
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Fandango’s One Word Challenge
FOWC 08.08.22
~ Sentence ~
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A muggy Sunday morning Arkquain from the (home at last!!) front porch where I’m sitting, recently returned, hoping to get my wheels spinning again…
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The Sit-In
On
a whim
I went out
and stayed there.
Been there ever since:
Plenty of breathable air,
no negatives anywhere;
nothing to become.
Don’t call me back.
Don’t call me
at all.
Please.
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About The Form:
ARKQUAIN
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Fandango’s One Word Challenge
FOWC 08.07.22
~ WHIM ~
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My response to Fandango’s weekly invitation to post a flashback to work published on or about this date sometime in the past is the following collection, originally published (online) at High Coupe in June of 2014 and subsequently anthologized (print) at Storm Cycle (Kind Of A Hurricane Press) in August 2015:
Haiku Stupid
1.
sixteen chickens cross
I curse the road for its width
stupid slowpoke birds
2.
they roll themselves down
stupid Pakistani socks
blame it on wal-mart
3.
stupid galaxy
we have nowhere else to go
stay home in the pits
4.
deadly golden arch
America malnourished
stupid plastic food
5.
turn the damned thing off
stupid reality shows
big ol’ bunch of dopes
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Fandango’s Flashback Friday
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Anti-Vaster
I’m trying to
think smaller
these days;
doing my best
to break things down;
devastate.
One word
one letter
at a time,
eh?
Just be.
See?
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Fandango’s One Word Challenge
FOWC 07.29.22
~ Vast ~
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Sevenling (on the porch) *
Out on the sunshaded front porch
just me and Joni Mitchell
sharing a joint with Cat Stevens.
Yesterday it was Crosby, Stills, Nash
and Melanie; John and Paul.
Just me and them and the water fountain.
And tomorrow’s Edible Friday. YAY!
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*Not familiar with the Sevenling form? You can read all about it HERE.
Fair Warning: Addictive
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Vanishment
Everybody knew where he lived. Almost everyone had paid him a visit. Most folks had enjoyed a beer or a smoke on his front porch; a few had sipped brandy with him in his afternoon living room or coffee at his early-morning kitchen table, but only one had shared a bedroom nightcap, and she hadn’t been seen for months.
hidden in darkness
silence is mandatory
secrets are secrets
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Go Dog Go Café
Haibun Wednesday 07.27.22
~ Something Hidden ~
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I think nothing is
too strong a word.
Same with nada; nil;
same with zip.
They all seem so final;
so empty and non-existent.
I prefer approximately zero
(but only approximately).
Almost nothing else will do.
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Fandango’s One Word Challenge
~ Approximately ~
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Scrambled, Not Fried 