Moosetodon#smallpoem

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@Downes

Stories

invoke.

#smallpoem with image and text and caption, responding to Stephen

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Caramel wafers - thin, crisp
slices of caramel and honey
honeyed pieces of buttery warmth
warm from the oven and warm hands
handed in loving care from them to you

#poetry #smallpoem

my goal is to write a #smallpoem every day. I think I made it until now even though I was feeling shitty for a time. so here's the one for today:

gleaming
steaming
on the far end of the world
I'm not losing my grip
it's a mighty trip
round the benches
the fire quenches
the sausage smelling
of the words I'm telling
I'm not yelling
nor bruising a reed
I am planting
giving water
to my seed

#smallpoems

@Algot

The thunderbird
farted thunder
and crapped rain
all night long.
The ozone stench
woke me
from a dream.
My dogs cowered
on their beds.
Quivering.

#smallpoem inspired by @Algot

When she was born,
They put a silver spoon in her mouth
To check if she was a werewolf,
Or a vampire,
And she cried.
#TootPoem #SmallPoem

@dogtrax #smallpoem mashup from a #smallstories

Writing with order
makes the experience
false in reality.
That's
a feature,
not a bug.

@dogtrax

That single word,
still and elliptical on the page,
is
an improvised explosive device.
Stenciled
on its armored carapice
are these words:

STILL DOING OK?

Take close care.
Tiptoe and breathe.
Deep,
still
breaths.

#smallpoems #smallpoem response

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@dogtrax

And all the silences between

the asterisks,

the negative noise space

screeching with deep gravity

like a train engaging the

airbrakes

and 'no-sound' arising,

only

#smallpoem responses
(Apparently, the sound of no-sound is an increasingly rare commodity these days (goo.gl/Dd9dyP)

Clean, fresh, hot laundry is a delicious just-so story.
Twill, white, crisp, and ready, the perfumed shirt folds.
Hands are the mere servants of the cotton.
I’m just fine with all this.
This subtle washboard sings things:
“I was made for a schoolgirl.
But an old marm can better wear me.
Age doesn’t deny everything from delight.”
So scarred fingertips discover reverie.
And they slide in the soft, pink folds of a comforter.
But I won’t tell about that.

#smallpoem

An Academic Writes Himself a Note

I am astonished
with
how incurious
I have become.
I am wildly interested
in
this lack,
this bland, dead, numbness.
It's not
the result
of any state of
knowing.
It comes from
being a pauper
in my own
discipline.
It fills me with awe
how much more
a dung beetle
knows
than I do.
I mean,
he really knows his shit.
As for me,
I just keep
flinging the same crap
on the same wall.
Safer
for
all
concerned.

#smallpoems #smallpoem

A Lesson from Anthony Bourdain

Experts be praised
and experts be damned,
you are where
the hand meets
the spinning clay.

Never forget that.

#smallpoems #smallpoem

Flattening Out the Guilt

What happens
when moral hazard
becomes distributed?

No one party
has committed
much of
a mortal sin
in her or his own eyes,
so they carry on
as if.

But every act
has unforeseeables.

Dominoes.
Lurking.
Linking.
Falling.

Eventually,
we get something,
perhaps
quite
dire.

#smallpoems #smallpoem

In response to @sensor63 's Vialogue (goo.gl/kuPAen) a #smallpoem #smallpoems

I aint lying when I say:
I am a bitter southerner.
I am a card carrying member of the precariat.
Every identifier also claims to know what I ain't.
That just ain't so.
I am not nothing.

@Algot @dogtrax #smallpoem response

Illogical Fantasy

I live
in the
false dichotomy,
the interstices of
that liminal space
we call a logical fallacy,
but is instead
neither here
nor there.
Suffice to say
we
are
all
somewhere.

(I've been following some students on a "blog takeover" -- invited -- of a writer's site. The theme has been notebooks. This morning, the day's student writer -- Faith -- wrote about a love of pens and she wrote a poem. I left this #smallpoem riff for her).

Ahh, pens,
such wonderful
pens ...
remind me
again, of what
I meant to say
when I arrived
at the end?
How can I erase
the day away
if, instead of pencil,
I almost always
seem to use
ink-filled
heart-filled
feelings-spilled
pens?

@dogtrax

The last
annular ring
of memory.
Hugging.
Loving.
By threes,
One at a time.

#smallpoem response to #smallstories

My youngest daughter will be visiting in a couple of weeks and I am reminded of this #smallpoem I wrote for here on the last occasion I saw her--driving her to the Nashville Airport: goo.gl/jJB8YF

@dogtrax #smallpoem #smallpoemresponse

Dampen and Amplify

In search of lost tones
and the remembrance
of amplitudes past,
all any of us hear is history, dopplering to and fro
on the long grade
to an undiscover'd country.