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 A terminal for all blogs coming in or going out. A view into my life. |
Started July 1st 2019 for contests, etc. as other blogs are filling up and have other purposes.  My new new new blog is
I'm starting a new blog because
I'll be linking to
I've started an appendix (I no longer have one personally) to keep track of my Space Cadet journals for Space Blog. It's a work constantly under construction. Mind the mess.
I needed to start a folder for contests as there are so many deadlines and details to remember.
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For:
Anticipation And here I am, a peppermint stick dissolving in hot water, waiting for rich dark cocoa and your two lips — do I dare wish? Oh no! It's brown, but bitter, and tastes like — coffee. KE DD#30 [177.278å] (30.november.2020) Nightmares Old wounds that will not heal. Night-gas that will not burp. This toss and turn to rise and pee. Love's hurts. KE DD#29 [177.278ø] (29.november.2020) Note: a cinquain, 2/4/6/8/2 = 22 syllables. Frozen Wan Sun begs me to greet him but I brood in my bed instead. He resides far to the South where I cannot venture. Here in the grip of Uncle Frost I must abide until his sister Spring-Flower frees me. What will remain once I thaw? pale sky— no warmth enters my room to hug me KE DD#28 [177.278æ] (28.november.2020) Reprieve Blue sky sends tendrils through the window to tickle the pink geraniums that thank me as I quench their thirst. We who are family celebrate together. KE DD#27 [177.278z] (27.november.2020) tempo di minuetto I wait for your call as life carries you along. I stand on the wrong platform as the train rumbles by. Looking the other way you do not see me waving. KE DD#26b [177.278y] (26.november.2020) larghissimo night gives way to day—but if weak sun cannot part grey clouds why should I cast away my blanket to part my thinning hair KE DD#26 [177.278x] (26.november.2020) senza moto My eyes close at dusk as if this day of grey fading to black is somehow over—it's not as my bed invites me to give in— give up. Will coffee give me the energy to get up—or will the dash to relieve myself finally wake me. I stare at the ceiling light—and shrug. KE DD#25 [177.278w] (25.novembar.2020) calando Weak sun warms weaker shoulders. Winter shadows grip weakly too as weakness creeps and conquers. KE DD#24 [177.278v] (24.novembre.2020) Passing through The spider in its web, the pig in its sty. Is it tears I shed now or an infection in my eye. KE DD#23 [177.278u] (23.noviembre.2020) Thinning hair Snow blankets the living and the dead, pulls back its covers to reveal flesh or bone. My mind, a vole, loses a well-stored thought, pounces when it finds it. KE DD#22 [177.278t] (22.noviembre.2020) Runaway Tanka Write, they said. Write, I did. Stop, they cried. Once in motion, that I cannot do. KE DD#21 [177.278s] (21.noviembre.2020) Thaw Like a mole I stay hidden beneath the sod content to chew on whatever the earth has to offer, but today — today I ventured out to a feeble sun, just to make sure it knew I was still here — and watching. KE DD#20 [177.278r] (20.november.2020) A lost year I could take my blood pressure pill—or let myself explode. Flip a coin? KE DD#19 [177.278q] (19.november.2020) [untitled] Others will carve the turkey, pretend they ate the cranberry sauce. I'll sit at home with squash and potatoes, peel onions all by myself. KE DD#18 [177.278p] (18.november.2020) Wreath Bent ever so gently how a twig becomes a circle my life at both ends KE DD#2 [177.278o] (17.november.2020) Leftovers for lunch macaroni and tuna fish — and onions my hair still uncombed KE DD#17 [177.278n] (17.november.2020) After the Election brown leaves cling to trees like limp flags — neither knowing they are dead KE DD#16 [177.278m] (16.noviembre.2020) Trying not to ravel Bonnie unravels cashmere sweaters, reweaves them into multicolored shawls while I guard this blue-green weave softly encasing me with warmth. I cherish this messy tangled life. Even Bonnie knows. KE DD#15 [177.278L] (15.noviembre.2020) In wan moonlight Am I alive if only the new moon knows it? I strive to wake up each noon, try to sleep at some ungodly hour. In between I do mundane things: eat, write — maybe shower. I often think of others, how that tiny hole in their life that once belonged to me has healed. In wan moonlight my eyes dim like a forgotten toy in the back of a closet. KE DD#14 [177.278k] (14.novembre.2020) written at noon... Passage denied That thin line between worlds, so gossamer yet solid glass, divides this land of struggle and where I want to be. The mirrored image now speaks softly—in time, in time, you're me. KE DD#1 [177.278j] (13.noviembre.2020) A chalice of rosebuds These dead roses do not care what day it is today or even what tomorrow may bring. Their fragrance fades like the superstitions of yesterday, like memories of last summer's hope and autumn's splendor. KE DD#13 [177.278i] (13.novembre.2020) After November's storms Brown leaves cling, a resting place for yesterday's snow. Icicles festoon the bushes under the eaves. My worry, coccooned against the dappled fright of day, still quakes and wobbles as my existence sways to the shake of branches threatening to bury me in an avalanche of fear. KE DD#12 [177.278h] (12.novembre.2020) Veterans I arrange old spices, cardamom and cinnamom, a goblet of rose petals. Snow deepens on a construction crane. My hair barely covers my head. KE DD#11 [177.278g] (11.november.2020) One-eye pop the lens and do not notice wonder why you can't see clearly take off glasses poke the eye at the sidewalk's end find the lens winking back at you KE DD#10 [177.278f] (10.november.2020) Yeah, I was lucky. Retraced my steps. There it was. November rebirth A red geranium rescued from the brink of death died back to nodes as leaves withered. Now sixteen new clusters of green mew, like newborn kittens, for my attention. KE DD#9 [177.278a] (9.november.2020) Monday, Monday Hours stretch to Ages that like shadows pass from west to east in opposition to the Sun... who unlike me, with time enough to spare, knows where He is going. KE DD#8 [177.278b] 20 20 20 20 20 20 The ticker tape crosses the screen over and over again the same-o same-o: good, bad, good, bad. When will this election end? KE DD#7 [177.278c] Impatiently Ice severs the rock that tumbles into the river where water wears it away to stone, to grit, carries it to the sea... where I sit impatient for its arrival. KE DD#6 [177.278d] The plumber shows up after 4 years Drip, drip, drip, drip. Oh what a relief it ain't. Turn off the damn faucet! KE DD#5 [177.278e] Under the Ginkgo Golden showers rain after the calm. November's teardrops glisten the leaves. I listen for winter. KE [177.277a] DD#3 [untitled] White, white, white! Begone the grey! Time to hibernate till the New Day flowers. Four year forecast: an end to fascism. KE [177.277b] DD#4 October's end Purple, black, and one lone peacock feather, the mask awaits the fool moon's whether... I'll wear it or not.  KE [177.278]24 syllables... I write for the 24 syllable contest, but rarely does it come out right the first time! And yes, 'fool' is on purpose.  |
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