Strokes.
Splashes of color corrupt the clean canvas,
white – pure and blinding;
the light at the end of the tunnel we all deny we’ll someday reach.
Speech stopped and fear knocked, escorted by the man dressed in
black – it’s the total darkness that scares us.
What could ever prepare us for the unknown? Continue reading “Color Schemes – Death”
Mistakes and Dishonor
I’m only lonely when I notice
Your absence in the wake of communication –
The sniper sharp focus
On our previous consociation. Continue reading “Shakespearean Sonnet – Loneliness – JG”
Chillin’ at the bar and I feel isolated,
Surrounded by eyes who only see the surface.
Diving into my ocean, they’re saturated;
Afraid of the monsters lurking in the abyss. Continue reading “Shakespearean Sonnet – Loneliness – SD”
Let’s be real for a moment. I’m getting kind of bored of coming up with themes every month. It’s not that I’ve run out of ideas; it’s really that I feel like my voice is drowning out any external potential for creativity. Continue reading “March’s Theme – and call for ideas!”
Are we not all of Mother Earth?
For one ‘from’ bears their roots’ worth. Continue reading “Rondeau – Patriot – SD”
January’s theme was decidedly dark. From romantic struggles, to social complacence, to haunting memories, each of the four poems used the theme of blood and wine to clean some skeletons out of our collective closets.
While discussing what the theme could be for this month, Jessie had the bright idea to just use the mascot of the Super Bowl winner as the theme. So congratulations to the New England Patriots; you are the subject (sort of) of a poetry theme. Also, congrats to my friends in Boston. I didn’t really have a horse in the Super Bowl race, but I like that two all-time great coach-player tandems have won championships in the waning years of their runs (Belichik-Brady, and Popovich-Duncan of the Spurs, who won the NBA championship in 2014). We’re on to the poetry! Continue reading “February’s Theme: Mel Gibson in a Kilt”
The Family Dinner Party
Where the man
at the top of the stairs,
the butcher of our tiny land
came from, nobody will say.
Every family has one.
We gather together,
blood running down
the wooden steps
Sat back with iPads,
Sniffin’ wine caps and
Actin’ through that high
Political rap, Continue reading “Rock Song – Vino y Sangre – SD”
I realized belatedly that I never said what my Misplaced Missives are, and I figure there’s no better time to explain than at the beginning. Thus, down below is the first – not the first written but the first rewritten into my private journal. These are the lost letters to the ones I’ve loved; letters I was never brave enough to send or letters there’s no longer anyone to send to. So thank you for reading these in the stead of those who never will. Continue reading “Misplaced Missives #1 – Fire – JG”
To Wash Away The Memory
Cut in a way,
A blade never will,
Shallow and deep,
But blood wasn’t spilt.
More subtle, more fine,
Complex and in my mind’s eye:
Divine.
These wounds taste like wine. Continue reading “Rock Song – Vino Y Sangre II – JG”
