Category: Poetry

A brand new one: five stanzas of thirty-eight syllables, nine-nine-nine-seven-four. ♥ EAB The Great Sieve If Truth is a universal force, it is manifest in Gravity: at its best, it unites heavenly bodies so they take orbit ’round each other, their paths set by fascination, by nuclear attraction creating chemical bonds not cut by any…

I’d forgotten about this poetic triptych of sevenlings I’d written back in early June. It has a specific layout that’s not html friendly, hence the image that you can enlarge with a click. The image is from the painting Marine by Salomon van Ruysdael, actual brigantines not pictured anywhere therein. The full text sans image is below….

A syllabic poem: nine and nine and nine and, on occasion, two. ♥ EAB Nine Days from Now He’s you with a cubist hand applied to your features, someone I’d only notice because of the split nature of this unintended moment. I’d expected to greet your laughter at the boundaries of my right side, but I…

When I drafted and posted “May (82nd & 5th)” a few months ago, I’d wanted to illustrate part of what I had hoped to accomplish with the staggered syllabic count: the lines were meant to look ragged, so that when the poem was turned on its side, it’d resemble a skyline. I finally got around to…

It’s National Poetry Day in the UK, the country that adopted me for three years. That means it’s time to post something. I haven’t won anything since I won a digital game watch from a Chips Ahoy! box back in the first grade, so I wrote this dodecasyllabic 22-line terza rima ditty back in July…

New Order it’s the pull in the gut, the lurching forward, and the limbs lift from sleep—and you were so sure they’d never wake again— nevermind, it’s here: everything you’ve ever wanted but nothing you were prepared for, smile and choose: left or right always is insincerity at its best, and never’s false promises are…

I wrote this one when I was in grad school and had embarked upon a rather nomadic pattern after a long period of stasis about eight or nine years ago. It’s got rotating rhyme and regular syllabic patterns. It came to mind today, so I decided to post it. ♥ EAB “Ana didn’t have her shit…

I put down this 13 x 13 after coming to terms with some of my social conditioning last night. I’ve included an audio file of me reading it. ♥ EAB pavlovian Pavlovian Pessimism visits me with lightning flashes, and I’m immediately convinced the storm’s on its way, so much so, I hear raindrops’ pittering-pat against…

I was in New York last week, and I threw down a freewrite while sitting on the steps of the Met. I’ve reshaped that aimless prose into a seven-stanza poem in which I limited the syllabic count of each line to seven different possibilities based upon the relative and transposed spacetime coordinates that applied to…