Today I made a startling discovery; there exists in this world, lo, in my small town, disposable fountain pens.
I'm not sure why this is such a shock to me, as I use disposable rollerballs all the time. But for some reason, the act of throwing away a nip makes me cringe.
There have been Wednesday prompts since the Challenge, but I've returned to the random scribblings in my journals, bouncing from volume to volume with nary a care.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Day 30 - Farewell
ashes on a bookcase
photos in a book
a favorite rhyme
and wintertime
a suckerpunch left hook
you were my fiercest critic
you were my dearest friend
manners of an esquire
ya bit me like a vampire
one day we'll be together again
photos in a book
a favorite rhyme
and wintertime
a suckerpunch left hook
you were my fiercest critic
you were my dearest friend
manners of an esquire
ya bit me like a vampire
one day we'll be together again
Day 29 - Never *blank*
Never found what I was looking for
Never lost a race I didn't enter
Never met a woman I didn't fall in love with
Never met a man I could trust
Never saw a sunset that didn't make me think of home
Never saw enough sunrises
Never said what I should have to some
Never shut up around others
Never wrote anything that made complete sense
Never really cared
Never realized...
Never lost a race I didn't enter
Never met a woman I didn't fall in love with
Never met a man I could trust
Never saw a sunset that didn't make me think of home
Never saw enough sunrises
Never said what I should have to some
Never shut up around others
Never wrote anything that made complete sense
Never really cared
Never realized...
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Day 28 - A Sestina
his mind envisioned the plane
as he stood outside and saw
a forest, a coniferous wood
before it a field of sand
he needed to make the cut
and needed to be in shape
her mind envisioned the shape
she worked on a different plane
one job, the patterns to cut
hours spent on a scroll saw
hours more, the edges to sand
on hardboard and balsa wood
the man wisely harvested wood
lumber began to take shape
stacked, away from the sand
each stick smooth from the plane
cut to width on the saw
purposely given a narrow cut
when the patterns were cut
they selected the wood
though nothing went to the saw
it had to dry before it took shape
from the jointer and plane
and months before they sand
in front of the forest in the sand
a runway marked with a cut
long enough to land a plane
and not end up in the wood
and an airfield began to take shape
and they were happy with what they saw
then it was time to saw
and alternately sand
her designs began to take shape
as the various pieces were cut
together they shaped the wood
and they gave birth to a plane
they flew in the plane and they saw
the expanse of the wood, the breadth of the sand
he'd made the cut and she'd created the shape
as he stood outside and saw
a forest, a coniferous wood
before it a field of sand
he needed to make the cut
and needed to be in shape
her mind envisioned the shape
she worked on a different plane
one job, the patterns to cut
hours spent on a scroll saw
hours more, the edges to sand
on hardboard and balsa wood
the man wisely harvested wood
lumber began to take shape
stacked, away from the sand
each stick smooth from the plane
cut to width on the saw
purposely given a narrow cut
when the patterns were cut
they selected the wood
though nothing went to the saw
it had to dry before it took shape
from the jointer and plane
and months before they sand
in front of the forest in the sand
a runway marked with a cut
long enough to land a plane
and not end up in the wood
and an airfield began to take shape
and they were happy with what they saw
then it was time to saw
and alternately sand
her designs began to take shape
as the various pieces were cut
together they shaped the wood
and they gave birth to a plane
they flew in the plane and they saw
the expanse of the wood, the breadth of the sand
he'd made the cut and she'd created the shape
Day 27 - Longing
She stands upon the mountain
The sheer edge below her feet
Facing East
A solitary island
In a sea of sand
Watching
Waiting
Wondering
He stands upon the rocks
The sea crashing at his feet
Facing West
Alone
Upon the crowded
Angel-Isle
And through the mist
Of time and space
A beam of light
And hope
Shines
The sheer edge below her feet
Facing East
A solitary island
In a sea of sand
Watching
Waiting
Wondering
He stands upon the rocks
The sea crashing at his feet
Facing West
Alone
Upon the crowded
Angel-Isle
And through the mist
Of time and space
A beam of light
And hope
Shines
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Day 26 - Miscommunication
"Wind's a comin"
said the raven.
The man looked startled
by the raucous laugh.
"Looks like rain too"
he added, and wheeled.
the man showed fear
being from Generica.
"You're on your own."
The bird turned
and rode the wind East
as the clouds churned.
Fighting the storm
back to his car
the tourist wondered
why no one had warned him.
said the raven.
The man looked startled
by the raucous laugh.
"Looks like rain too"
he added, and wheeled.
the man showed fear
being from Generica.
"You're on your own."
The bird turned
and rode the wind East
as the clouds churned.
Fighting the storm
back to his car
the tourist wondered
why no one had warned him.
Day 25 - Event
blindfolded and bound
when the snake struck
the world spun round
chanting
ancient text
buffeted by the guardians
kneeling before the stone
the words flowed
within me without me
until I was a part
of the light
when the snake struck
the world spun round
chanting
ancient text
buffeted by the guardians
kneeling before the stone
the words flowed
within me without me
until I was a part
of the light
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