Sunday, January 31, 2016


the photo above sink

swaying right-left hazel

a luck of
black on crimson

dry down colors

houses shrug indifferent

in each zodiac
a sign of icy

under pressed thread stroke

huddled warm town

frigid drab fog
the city

Note:  Cherita (pronounced CHAIR-rita) is a linked poetry form of one-, two-, and three-line stanzas.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Altered digest

by Sally Cooper ~

A snap!
                                     prestidigitator’s fingers
                                     transported winter to east       
                                     the miracles of sparkled 
                                     whites at nights  
                                     juxtaposed with people at houses 
                                     now involved uncluttering 
                                     what’s not worked 
                                     revenues arrive 
                                     on time 
                                     to count and forget 
                                     the warm fall from the wall, 
                                     the urgent call to wake up 
                                     to ripe lives foliage… 
                                     though the moon insists 
                                     to get going 
                                     to fling with zest 
                                     to find, complete, 
                                     bring to harvest 
                                     your best 
                                     a project desires blessings 
                                     and even Death 
                                     not sitting anymore 
                                     in first row & laugh - 
                                     strong, riding the horse 
                                     with a flag of new 
                                     beginning, rebirth; 
                                     and falling castle 
                                     surprises us 
                                     with sudden changes 
                                     routine pristine 
                                     destroyed to let in 
                                     something novel, 
                                     the road is clear 
                                     just embark on 
                                     the path and meet 
                                     someone bright, 
                                     ask his name 
                                     and insights 
                                     on why...  

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Monday, January 25, 2016


                                           all cells call
                                        to be locked/
                                        then comes
                                        a day or the moment,
                                        when consciousness

                                        this simple peek,
                                        a slip in one cell
                                        to check
                                        the absence
                                        of guide
                                        and find
                                        compulsively acting
                                        the chip of memory,
                                        a grid, where
                                        all - resist, stuck, socked in
                                        dry, blind, glitched
                                        glued to trap 

                                       only lighting bolt
                                       can connect/convict
                                       those threads links
                                       through embodied
                                       verses into veins & vessels
                                          of unknown path...

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Plum blossom

  Fragrance of plum
         among the cold winter  
endurance of soul
         embodied nature values
   from bud to maturity

Tuesday, January 19, 2016


A sigh… a flash…
a sign of shift
true corners move
and bloody
torn wounds healed…

life humpback burst
out – the wings
first time so widely open
I sore to high
under the dome
continue staring…

at spirits
self chained
experience the earthy rain
the shower of forgiving sins

descending through the portal
the light – declutter
past days due

Read more at: Photo Challenge #96

Saturday, January 16, 2016

I thought of moving fast...

by Nick Simonson

I thought of moving fast
in fact I did
for my andante
ignoring the truth
of solar plexus
settling for double
hiding the
wounds & epiphany
under the rain of
deleted ‘sales’, ’bath & beyond’,
‘realage’, ‘samples & sounds’…

I’m open to white snow gush
feeding me wisely its story
of curious hunters
flashing desires
to devour the pheasant…

where…what a…why…
while everything – white...