Friday, January 29, 2010

Moon-insomnia 55

Tonight’s sky
holds a gibbus moon
shining sideways,
a dry addict’s spoon.
The waxing moon
hangs a winkless scowl
heavily lidded
as an angry vow,
Snaps a blink
like a blistering whip
against a slave
of a sleepless ship.
The road ahead:
blood dried black
as a blind dog’s nose on
an old, cold track.
This is a Flash Fiction 55 word poem.  If you have one, or a story, post it friday and let G-Man know HERE

Thursday, January 28, 2010


Full smoky moon
An omen or a beacon
I look for signs.

Umber, then amber,
Obscurely glowing among oak-twists
Of an earth-black lattice.

Orange, then saffron,
Ornately cloud-laced, come out!

A smile, a face, a glee
Laughingly peeking

Over fingers of mist.
Longingly drawing,
Beckoning a draught

From my lips, but only
An unstoppable

Through sorrowing eyes.
Beacon hold me
Armless, handless, graspless,

I cannot recall wanting so much.
"Serendipity" was coined on this day, in 1754. It is defined as the phenomenon of finding valuable things not sought for.  Read about it HERE   This blog, and the fellow writers and readers are serendipitous for me.
All rights reserved.
Photo:  Google Images, mellow sunsets, hunter's moon.

Monday, January 25, 2010


Pekinese challenge
Orion incessantly.
Hunter wins silence.

Thursday, January 21, 2010


Black bird pierces
a steep strip scrawl
lacing through my striding.

Quails weave in
and out,

Tipping chipping quipping
ahead behind above.
A syn-chron-ous city

Hum zum free,
buzz free see,
cricket breezes bees

Yee hee hee,
Harp yelp mark,
Coyotes? Dogs? Pups?

Too far away
Padding, padding
Hard, soft, ticking.

Stillness’s synonyms:
Write a story or poem in 55 words or less, and let G-Man know:

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Not Better Off Dead

This is not
any love song,
nor any psalm,
for me.

A 20-something’s rush
to the office store,
replace the paper
to write a score.
A truck turns,
and broad-sides his legs,
rescuers drag him, footless and burning,
not to sing, not to beg.
Not a love song,
nor a psalm
…..of a poet
not better off dead.
In a still, lone bed
of a rural ICU
a patient with a lung-implant
gasps a poem
I do not know.
The Rag is passed
and the new ear listens.
Is it a better love song
or psalm
sought after
the author's gone?
From a month spent
in coma from a stroke:
springs one man,
with one wife,
a universe-city of students,
twin boys full of life,
to teach, to talk,
to hug, to walk,
to reach:
only one-armed not,
but for a love song,
and a psalm for all.
She cuts
on her arm,
not for physical pain,
but release of heart’s balm
on her psychic longing,
 of a new moment dawning,
again…not better off dead.
that I cannot
live without you,
But knowing
I can
see you
is a love song
and a psalm for
a better-off day.
( To: Those in Haiti, for the victims, dead or alive)
all rights reserved

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Another Time

Bald eagle above

snowy peak. Head and tail turn

raven in the sun

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Too much time


30 minutes/coaster ride

For the one kissed.
all rights reserved,
Thanks Dave King at Pics and Poems for the Haiku
definition.  Photo: Jillian Standish, Pt Buchon, Calif.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

No Time

No time to write, so a favorite quote for all of my poetry friends:
Plato's Phaedrus : "If anyone comes to the gates of poetry and expects to become an adequate poet by acquiring expert knowledge of the subject without the Muses' madness, he will fail, and his self-controlled verses will be eclipsed by the poetry of men who have been driven out of their minds." (245 a)
 i digress

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Rebirth 1-10-2010

Incurably sick?
Ex vivo.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

55 Flash Fiction Friday

What’s in a number?
Guess, if you wonder:

Sleep retrieves
unrealized dreams.

Wear longer sleeves,
looser seams.

Don sunscreens
with firming creams.

Closer friends
form quicker mends,

communing first
for less outbursts.

Quench deeper thirsts.

Eat dessert first.

In 55 hours,
I'm 55 minus five.

If you can read this,
be glad we’re alive.
55 flash fiction (or poetry) Friday Challenge, in exactly 55 words and let G-Man know:
photo from Santa Monica, CA, my uncle, Mr. Universe.  My dad photographer.  Guy on left, unknown.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

morning rises

Yoga downward dog

sun rises for full moon sets

breathing to my feet.

Ha! all rights reserved, I guess...
Thumb rock, Prescott Arizona, 2004

Monday, January 4, 2010

New days

Waves through solstice rocks
feet in step against wind’s trail
plumes of waves dancing.

All rights reserved.
Photo by Jillian Standish, Point Buchon, California, 11-2009

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Sunday 160

What I like about you
in this
when you do
what you do so well.

And also
when you
tell me
what you like
about me


Tomorrow and yesterday

photo by Christine McGuire, California, 2007
This is a Sunday 160. If you wish to take the challenge, here is a quick look at the rules. For the original Sunday 160 post click here.
The Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces)
Keep on schedule - post Sunday
let monkeyman know if you have a sunday 160 on his site
Visit at least one other Sunday 160 (if they exist)
Ranging lioness

on winter’s cracked granite crags,

climbs her mate’s mountain.

All rights reserved
Photo: Monarch Lakes, Mineral King, in Sequoia National Park, California, USA, Aug 2007

Friday, January 1, 2010

55 Flash Fiction Friday


Where have all the muses gone

from loins



and sighs?

Stuck to the bottom of a

sticky oatmeal pot,

slab-hard meat locker,

stale smoke stairwell,

slimy greasy griddle,

slicing queasy toothache,

Sangria bottle drunk half down

no end in sight?

Grinning at the moon,

blue and ringed round by rainbows,

she returns a swoon.
All rights reserved.