Tag: free verse poetry
member name: Lynn Doiron
|
August 31, 2007 03:33 PM EDT --
On Monday the air at my open window came in uninvited
and at such a pace: not a run, not a skip, but with the sweep
of a ballroom diva gliding a fast fox-trot. I had no choice
but to name . . .
more
|
|
January 07, 2008 03:55 PM EST --
The Diggers sway, lean out needled fingers
in easy forty-fives, wrench back, gray turnings
of sap greens: rain's way of backspacing
tints and tones, pixel by pixel, erased. . . .
more
|
|
June 04, 2008 05:45 PM EDT --
Hold a finger to your tongue then raise that one
into the air, hold it there, that one,
all its heightened sensors
wetted for approaches:
let them come.
You are ready,
heart on . . .
more
|
|
August 30, 2007 12:52 PM EDT --
She lives in a room dedicated to thimbles and books,
keen upon cases of floss ordered from eBay
and the sheen of marginal glosses on scripts.
She’s papered her walls
with paragraphs, . . .
more
|
|
August 31, 2007 10:13 AM EDT --
Ironed open and flat, their edges left raw
to fray, they become as spouses, who,
having said I do’s and linked arms, the thread
of one life, half a stitch, the thread of the other
. . .
more
|
|
July 26, 2009 06:00 PM EDT --
I am thinking of an outer room of dusking pinks and live orchid stems with many buds yet bundled, emergent nubs: cymbidums, green, one perfect bloom opened and tenderly lime, the curve of a child’s . . .
more
|
|
January 29, 2008 06:44 PM EST --
When did I last come awake warm,
smile before I opened my eyes or knew
the sky had risen
like a pink drape
and shaken blue down the dome of heaven,
all the air waving happy
that I lived? . . .
more
|
|
January 22, 2007 11:31 PM EST --
Off Victoria Road, citrus groves are all luster
in moonlight; aqua daubs blur orange leaves
and lemon, and slur orchard rows into bas relief.
Parked on White Horse Drive, red tuck-n-roll
backseat . . .
more
|
|
August 30, 2007 11:53 AM EDT --
Such a pen! Such a cage! Telephone poles
for corner supports of meshed ceiling,
walls no duck can escape
except by specific plan
by man
for men.
Or women
who pull triggers
down birds . . .
more
|
|
December 01, 2007 12:34 PM EST --
For three days I deconstructed
sweaters, saved bone buttons off cardigans
and rolled used yarn into balls, wondering
where the arms went (once they were gone)
and each . . .
more
|
|
January 18, 2007 09:14 PM EST --
2007 and the daughter and her husband
move into an old home, circa 1955, and
you volunteer to help with renovations
by stripping the front bathroom’s wallpaper
and find a heart penciled on the plaster. . . .
more
|
|
August 29, 2007 04:33 PM EDT --
This is not about cups in summer-cottage china closets
placed to wait their fills below the Hummels,
above the blue nun sunk in meditation, Llardo fired.
This is not about cups rolling . . .
more
|
|
January 03, 2008 08:24 PM EST --
Curl it round me,
she tells the sky,
and asks, too, for a horn button,
a hole to run the button through
in this woven shrug phenomena
of air swirling her.
As fledgling . . .
more
|
|
December 14, 2006 12:42 AM EST --
Roger Lunt, Auto Wholesaler, calls here today,
says he found a set of house keys in my old Buick—
the ’90 Reatta I abused for sixteen years,
hugged by its gray leather . . .
more
|
|
|
|
