* amor vincit omnia *

Poetic Asides Daily Writing Prompt

Maybe It's Cliche

Maybe we could meet for coffee.
Maybe we’ll have lunch next week. Maybe we should go on a ‘real’ date. Maybe it’s time we took this to the next level.
Maybe I’ll make breakfast for you.

Maybe you’re The One. Maybe it was Love At First Sight. Maybe we were meant for one another. Maybe this is all a dream.
Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe we’ll never feel this way again. Maybe this is how it feels when it’s RIGHT.

Maybe we should get married.

Maybe we ought to wait.
Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe we're rushing things. Maybe we should go to counseling. Maybe we should give each other space. Maybe we need a break. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe we can still be friends. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were. Maybe we can be together later.
Maybe I need a restraining order.

Maybe someday I’ll break out of this rut.

4 November 2009

* amor vincit omnia *

2 Promts: 2fer 2sday; positive poem and negative poem

Negative poem

in reversed shades of orange and grey
ghostly images reveal
more of the image-taker
than of the souls she steals

3 November 2009

Positive poem

For my morning tinkle
I must take care to sprinkle
this judgemental little stick
I tell myself I do not care
which symbol is revealed
but my internal bravado
doesn’t drown the soundless sound
of biological “tick-tick.”

3 November 2009

* amor vincit omnia *

Poetry Prompt Link is now unfutzed.

Location of Importance

Prize Inside!
Expiration Date On Lid.
Recipes at OurWebsiteDotCom.
Nutrition Information On Side

(Asterisk: * means 'see elsewhere for disclaimer')

Processed at a plant that also processes peanuts
Box Tops for Education
Mail-In Rebate!

(this ingredient) has been associated with (this effect) in laboratory tests

See Back For Details
partially hydrogenated ; high fructose : avoid, avoid, avoid
Grown In (a location far from here)

...and as I pluck the blackberry from the bush beside the road and feel
its sunwarmed flesh between my fingertips, I pause to wonder
if I dare to wonder what's in the dust that coats
the berry with a gritty film, blow the worst of it with
my breath, whose contents I know I do not dare
to contemplate, and pop the whole thing into
my mouth, grit and juice and seeds and
sunshine exploding in an unlistable symphony of summer moment.

2 November 2009

* amor vincit omnia *

2009 NOVEMBER PAD CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE
The second annual November PAD (Poem-A-Day) Chapbook Challenge begins on November 1 at my Poetic Asides blog. Throughout the month of November, I'll provide the prompts (and my own attempts at poems); you respond with your own poem in a super inspiring and supportive writing atmosphere.

Then, poets spend the month of December revising and organizing their November poems into a manuscript of 10-20 pages of poetry, which are then submitted to me. On Groundhog Day 2010, I'll announce a winner (last year, it was Shann Palmer).

Come join in the fun November 1. You can participate every day or randomly. There aren't any hard and fast rules or attitudes. It's all about the poeming!

PoeticAsides

Patience, Mother

Ah, the smug self-satisfied
assurance of the 14 year old boy. Ah, the prevalence
of those who will not ever mature past it. Ah, the
joy of knowing
people who are not
14 year old boys. Ah,
the worry that THIS boy
will NOT outgrow 14,
even if I let him live.

1 November 2009

* amor vincit omnia *


TODAY I ASK, REMEMBER MOST MY LAUGH
UNBROKEN ARE LOVE BONDS WE CANNOT SEE
DEAREST FRIENDS, KNOW AMONG YOU I DO PASS
YET EVEN STILL, IN CLOUDS AND HILLS AND TREES



Thursday, 7 August 2008

* amor vincit omnia *

Nouns, A Shorthand Language


When I say
Volkswagon Mac Birkenstock, you
conjure an image in your mind, which may even
supply a scent of burning contraband, which I
ommitted
deliberately. If I say
Manolo Jaguar Winebar, the picture is
different, and accompanied by
the aroma of Botox
or silicone
or both.
Minivan Khaki Ponytail
paints another portrait, as does
Eyeliner Fishnet Piercing, Golfcart Polo Cigar, or Beard Leather Harley.
It is possible to distill yet further, for example
Lipstick Miniskirt, Sunburn Tractor, Champagne Steeplechase,
Hardhat Bicep, Lolipop Shoestring, Goldtooth Doo-rag
or Bluerinse Walker. Your image of Streetcorner Squeege might be different from mine; perhaps not. For Crewcut Dufflebag, your brain fills in
a uniform of your choice. If I say
Naked Pinup, you probably don’t need the words
Blonde or Kennedy to smell
the Chanel Number Five.
Beware, though: these thumbnail poloroids can get too sketchy, for your vision of
Polyester Aquanet will change entirely
when I add the word
Memphis.

June 2008

* amor vincit omnia *

For Violet Glaze
. . . (or, Harpie vs Gorgeous, made in Japan)
("Our Corsets, Our Selves," Feature, Jan. 2)


It is hard
(I know)
to feel beautiful when
your main accessory is
baby spit-up
and your fragrance
is poo.

Hard to remember your
loveliness
in stained sweatpants
accidentally decorated with
a used
diaper, accidentally left
on the sofa, tapes unclosed
accidentally.

Your Gorgeous will often
refuse to make an entrance
to hair unbrushed
for the fourth day running.
I know.
Your Harpie, nourished by
long nights
unanswerable cries
and a world that dictates
that THE BABY is the most
important being ever created,
thrives.
You
ought to feel guilty
even contemplating
scented moisturizer or
a manicure: Harpie vs Gorgeous,
a battle worthy of
bug-eyed costumes and
badly-synced dialogue.

No one mentions
I KNOW
that The Baby (also)
does better when
Mama
feels beautiful.

January 2008
{published in City Paper 30 January 2008}