Backstory: Seven bags unpacked, Sifted through. No flour. None. The one thing now to be missed— Homemade birthday cake.
Poem title from chapter 42 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.
I learned about the shadorma during last year’s National Poetry Writing Month. It’s such a lovely poetic form to work with, I not only fulfilled the prompt but wrote a number of other shadormas, including this one. Peace to your ♥!
The winter squash you bought can tell you if it’s ripe or not:
1. Hold the squash to your ear to help you hear.
2. Press a fingernail through its flesh,
but apologize first for being fresh.
3. Short answer:
If it doesn’t resist when you press,
the answer is no; otherwise, yes.
If it doesn’t accept your apology,
the squash is immature. Let it be.
If it accepts with good grace,
it’s ripe. Feel free to embrace.
4. If you’re still unsure if your squash is a winner,
you should cook another vegetable for dinner.
Poem title from chapter 4 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.
come at top speed digital dragon in dungeon with hard byte and technoflame need a gigabit of protection and firewall upgrade
Poem title from chapter 35 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.
I continue to post poems from my poemcrazy project, in which I wrote a separate poem for each chapter title in the book of that name by Susan G. Wooldridge. Some chapter titles were more challenging than others. For this one I used the the Geek Magnetic Poetry Kit at play.magneticpoetry.com. Peace to your ♥!
There will be three:
the forest of gentle menace,
the atrium of white silence,
the sea of blue chairs.
The viewer will notice first:
the denuded spires of the trees,
the billowing of the marble arches,
the methodical stacking of the chairs.
And as the camera pans out:
the pockmarked snow,
the solitary white chair,
the blue of the sea.
Poem title from chapter 11 of Poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.
I based this poem on three photos selected from the @SpaceLiminalBot Twitter account. Peace to your ♥!
Companion poems from my poemcrazy project. Peace to your ♥!
With swoop and soar, with whoop and cry, Fly, Icarus, fly!
An eagle with a glinting eye, High, Icarus, high!
I write my name across the sky, I, Icarus, I!
Too far ahead, too high, my Icarus. My heart beat fast to see him swoop and soar. My wings trembled for him. And when he plunged, I tore my eyes away. Ah, Icarus! My golden boy! You overshot your wings; I flew my steady course. And both too late In life to master now the middle way Of utter unincinerating joy.
Poem titles from chapters 43 and 46 of poemcrazy by Susan G. Wooldridge.