EchoGnomics

I hope Lt Gov Peggy Flanagan runs for Governor. She would be my first pick. But at least if Amy K. also runs, this way the attack ads are split, and take note: they will be savage.

@ourpoetryx.bsky.social #vss365 #ghost

To a Dog Called Ghost In Another Tongue

#Brave the cold of death,
little ghost I laid to rest.
Break it in. Run free.

Tired of hot yoga or wearing clothes?
Try naked jumps from sweaty saunas
onto quivering lakes to be found
and extracted, a zany icicle in the buff.

#icicle #FreeverseFebruary Also 1/5 of an #alphabetorum.

BALANCE OF SELF

Bundled up like a penguin
(minus chic tuxedo)
on the lake's chilling caress,
My feet thought long
in a looping script
flocked by snowshoes,
upon the balance of belonging.

Chilling caress #WeirdMicro
Looping script #GrimScribe
point of view, penguin inspiration by #mnrcreative on IG

#Sandpiper #WildWalkPrompt #Emoetry #terrified

A #sandpiper promenaded
by the shops.
It didn't look #terrified,
More like a woman pondering
if her credit and busy schedule
would cover frock shopping
plus sushi lunch
forgetting
that she wasn't
Sandy Piper, Esq.
but a dowdy shorebird
once again.

Brilliant! Tone is always very tricky online.

Coffee's scorched drupe #tea:
Madder beans get burnt and boiled
for that tortured smell.

#scihaiku

Coffee is in the madder/bedstraw family. The fruits are drupes (stone fruit), not true beans (legumes/pulses.)

There's still no use in calling them coffee drupes, though.

#haikufeels #face #FreeVerseFebruary #iron #outsourcing #senryu

Tea's not needed to face
the day, they say: don't outsource
your alertness. HAH.

In voices' gravel,
Rusted iron nails, wildflowers
and cigarette butts.

#iron #FreeVerseFebruary

Children in pain
Still play, too often mistaken
for innocent joy.

#vss365 #pain #senryu

#CATKINS

Branches pause mid-winter
to dangle firm ament bling
for wind-swept dates.

#WildWalkPrompt #haikufeels #pause #scihaiku

Note: catkins, also called aments, are generally male flowers.

#OurPoetryX #seeing_Shadows #vssdaily #corrupt #PoemsAbout #Mouths Ossuous murmer #WeirdMicro
Distortion mode #GrimScribe

Seeing shadows fall
Out of corrupt mouths
babbling
in full distortion mode,
an ossuous murmer
warned again
of the foul huffs
of depravity.

I snarled back
my gag reflex.

#vssfantasy #longing #vss365 #soul #foxprose #falling_in_love_with_fate

Falling in love with fate,
that sexy emperor of the future
who deeded Pluto's freehold
to a neon soul longing
to be held, to be worthwhile.
A volatile amalgamation.

Paused mid-signature,
Dog scents bunnies at O'Hare
And forgets the void.

a close up of a zebra with a national geographic wild logo behind it Alt: Close up of a zebra's head and neck as it does a slow, seemingly disgusted take to the right.

Peacock riding stripes
Struts, cries his sunset envy,
while stars rise behind.

Excellent.

Grief is a Demon

Grief is a demon
graffittiing
"de mon"
(of my)
then "de monde"
(of the world or people)
then abruptly bangs the wall
crying
until you take it by the hand
and hug it.

#flawedpoetssociety on IG (poem response of 33 words or less.)

Yes!! I was once startled when I did a public reading and people applauded after. I had forgotten that was a thing that happened.

Hat tip to @drdeepakdev.bsky.social for helping me find these prompts.

His poem: www.instagram.com/p/DTHtdEVjar...

Black text on yellow-pinkish stationery patterned with sycamore. Prose Poem across 2 images: "Seventeen half-written letters I. Loving you was easy, letting go stark, our hands forced by destiny. We walked hand in hand as I left you ,the silhouette of forgiveness and pain. II. The color of goodbye was in my tears and in all the mementos I threw out after. I had to force some room to let better days call my name. III. I sat in the same rocking chair from ten years ago. The rocking was not nearly as sweet as your arms, just rhythm for my grieving. IV. I got diagnosed. My medical mysteries took so long to solve that healing feels a stay in an emotional burnout unit. V. Over and over I prayed and woke up angry at the cost of careless mistakes over decades. VI. My journal became a calendar full of sticky notes for self-healing: meditations, drafts of letters. None were sent to you. Moving on must be an unpaused verb. VII. Letters even when unsent are their own splendor. VIII. Sycamore trees shade emerald paths where souls journey under divine protection, they say. We knew these paths well. IX. Blooming in stillness was my curiosity for another whose life was a dark reflection of my past, making me face my own lost selves.

Page 2 of poem, same background as page 1. X. We shared tender bruises of melancholy. Our chats grew into a cozy sweater- unravelled by my excess and his restraint. XI. Old wounds re-opened and emotions ruptured. We chilled then grew chill, backing off. XII. His full bowing out was graceful in intent, perhaps. In practice, no. XIII. I wound ripping up 17 half written letters: raw howls to somebody who thought the color of goodbye was not tears but turning ghostly invisible. XIV. I added everything up and nothing balanced. The only math left was time. Unsent letters became prayer and their own splendor. Thusly I prayed and woke up angry for months. XV. I felt a lonely echo trapped in the ripples of a brook mirroring the sycamore, waiting for my dark reflection to surface. Bewildered why I was even doing this, I recalled you taught me patience. XVI. Love, you would not have done any of that. You never pried about my scars; you had so many of your own. You were my support and warmth as I was yours. XVII. Everything we were only helped me grow. I will always be grateful for you, even as my heart knows why moving on must be an unpaused verb. EchoGnomics

#vss365 #soul
All other bolded phrases are from #FlawedPoetsSociety on IG a while back. This poem took a while to revise.

Beat, beat this naughty nurse
with a hazel rod
For unsolicited advice
on nether region hygenie
Although I do nod--
Such information is crucial
For these dames with tentacles
long enough to wipe their cervices.

Light pink text on black background with an image of William Shakespeare. Verse follows: "Shaking Love’s Spear To Jump the conclusion or not, 'Tis the ethical dilemma of love whether you like it or not. Paranoid hypotheses fast warps to delusional conclusion: Othello’s jealousy slew Desmonda. Yet hopeful hypotheses keep hearts dancing on strings in painful infatuation. which some to premature graves doom. Others drink magic brews to show how love makes half-asses of us all." #DilemmasinVerse EchoGnomics

A prompt is offered: write the ethical dilemma behind love or heartbreak. If it was good enough for this guy...

Tag #DilemmasinVerse and I will see and repost.

@vssmagic.bsky.social #cornflower

CORNFLOWERS

Their bachelor's buttons abandoned,
blue centaurs gallop through cornfields,
each hoofprint a finely textured bloom,
then vanish to the sky as dusk lowers.

THESE POEMS WE CANNOT WRITE These poems we cannot write fall incomplete into that void still thieving our souls despite these poems we cannot write , Our minds with terror have toyed with a world gone schizoid torn by the contrite and the cordite. These poems we cannot write. When wounded we saw overjoyed schadenfreude from faces bathed in moonlight-- these poems we cannot write. What we remain destroyed by, that asteroid impact rendering our world bedlamite, these poems we cannot write. Echognomics

#mpprompt #poems_we_cannot_write
#vssdaily #terror A brief dansa macabre.

Distorted geometry #WeirdMicro
Trembling fingers #GrimScribe

🖤THE GRIMSCRIBE'S VALENTINE🖤

She got a reddish origami card
with a distorted geometry
coated with words of love
from trembling fingers.
The flowery close explained how
the card was born from his heart,
deftly flensed into leaves.

Squirrel ballerina auditions for the Nutcracker!

Let me gently coach
this in words you may recall
long after I go...

#haikufeels #coach #senryu
#tanka #mmprompt #poems_we_cannot_write

Some poems we cannot write,
just get trapped within, howling.

Makes me recall my old "Siriusly Black" service dog right there.

Me too, but I lack the fortune to own it.