Even The Blaster Dies
No one even heard it coming.
No one could tell if it was
a guided or unguided missile
an intentional artillery shell,
or The Cosmos opening its arms
to welcome everyone home
but after the blast
none of that really mattered
and there wasn’t anyone left
to consider sources anyway;
no one left to resist or reply;
no one to accept or reject.
No one.
—————[|||]—————
Fandango’s One Word Challenge
~ BLAST ~
———[||]———
Pre-Surgical
impatient patient
claustrophobic waiting room
crossword puzzle done
Unattached
He’s been up all night, having trouble letting go, having trouble imagining her return. He steps out on the deck, thinks about the space between them, thinks about the invisible, non-existent bridges between stars; the lines we only think we see, gathering us into constellations.
mid-May at midnight
—The Hermit Constellation—
disconnection reigns
—————[|||]—————
Go Dog Go Café
Haibun Wednesday
~ Celestial ~
———[||]———
Given a list of compound words, we’re invited to choose a few and break them with the poem’s line breaks. I chose “moonlight” and “daytime” and fashioned a haiku (with a compound word title!). Thanks to Lillian for hosting the cool prompt at today’s Tuesday Poetics Challenge at dVerse Poets.
———[||]———
Clockstopper
Under the new moon
light awaits another day
—time slows to a stop—
—————[|||]—————
dVerse Poets Pub
Tuesday Poetics
~ Compound Me ~
———[||]———
Skyfall, Imminent
It’s a pretty badly sunken sky
but at least it isn’t falling
he said aloud to himself
unenthusiastically
feeling a bit like
Chicken Little
nonetheless.
Meanwhile
his abandoned lover,
earthbound, adopting
the voice of Ground Control,
mistook his sorry ass for Major Tom,
told him that things could still go wrong,
advised him to take his alleged protein pill
and to put his friggin’ helmet on, just in case.
—————[|||]—————
Tuesday Twiglet #279
~ sunken sky ~
———[||]———
Fandango’s One Word Challenge
~ Enthusiastic ~
————[||]———
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 “Sleep” or some word that incorporates it. Tonight, I’ve opted for a Sevenling.
Thanks to Sarah for hosting and getting us started.
———[||]———
Sevenling (he sleeps less) *
He sleeps less and less these days;
only waits and waits, tosses and turns,
wide awake and counting sheep until morning.
When daylight arrives, the morning sun
—like him— rises but refuses to shine.
He stays unlit.
It’s not just his clock that’s stopped.
———[||]———
*Not familiar with the Sevenling form? You can read all about it HERE.
Fair Warning: Addictive
—————[|||]—————
dVerse Poets Pub
Quadrille Monday
~ Sleepy Times ~
———[||]———
I Know What John Would Say
Truthkillers, Liemongers,
Tellers Of Tales:
rabid repeaters;
their yack never fails.
There they are in the paper,
there they are on The News;
wherever you look
they’re singing the blues
or praising Their Leader
or dissing their foes
and pleasing The Masses
by ignoring our woes.
But we can have freedom
if we cover our ears
and pay no attention
to the Merchants Of Fear.
Let’s fix up the planet
and pull up our pants;
there’s only One Answer:
let’s give peace a chance.
—————[|||]—————
Fandango’s One Word Challenge
~ rabid ~
———[||]———
Nonagenda
I’ve got all these things
I know I should get done or
should want to get done
or at least get started on.
I guess you’d call them
chores or basic upkeep;
either cleaning or fixing,
prepping, or finishing up;
either here in the house or
out in the yard and garden;
maybe mowing the lawn or
trimming my beard, sweeping
the porch or just brushing
what’s left of my teeth.
I know I ought to get busy but
this more-than-comfy couch
fits my ass so perfectly, and
I’ve just poured myself another
Jumbo Mountain Margarita,
set Pandora for my favorite
New Age Ambient Channel,
chomped down one of those
Magic Brownies Liz sent, so,
Ummm… Not now. Later.
Maybe.
—————[|||]—————
Fandango’s One Word Challenge
~ Active ~
———[||]———
Wait; Isn’t That, Ummm. . .
Crew members agreed:
the new deck hand was awful.
Clumsy and inept
he was too old for the job,
looked like The Admiral’s twin.
—————[|||]—————-
Fandango’s One Word Challenge
~ demoted ~
———[||]———
I may (or may not) be around for today’s Open Link Night (Live!) festivities at the dVerse Poets Pub, but I thought I’d share this piece with you, one way or another. I try to keep up with my Morning Pages Regimen, and I fished out and revised this one (originally drafted last February) for tonight’s share. I hope you dig it, whether I get to read it out loud or not.
———[||]———
Temple Bell Failure
Whatever happens after the bell’s third chime,
if anything happens after the bell’s third chime,
is almost never what he’s been hoping for,
almost never something that comes easily or
flows like it ought to after the bell’s third chime.
Whatever it is that used to hurt still hurts
but new hurts arise, and old hurts never fade.
Nothing that’s new stays new forever, so
fresh and new must do what fresh and new
are destined for: to age and wilt and hurt.
Page after page after chapter after book,
nothing new ever comes his way; nothing
ever happens after the bell’s third chime.
—————[|||]—————
dVerse Poets Pub
Open Link Night (LIVE)
———[||]———
Scrambled, Not Fried 