Tag: prose poetry
group name: wordpainting
|
July 17, 2007 05:09 PM EDT --
I’ve mown down the weeds or should I say
The brown patches of parched grass
That have so ill spoken of the sun’s rays.
The downtrodden perennials once having proudly displayed
Nature’s . . . more
|
|
September 13, 2006 06:38 PM EDT --
But today, mon cher, I am not good with words. I say what people already know.
Very dark brown hair, long, pulled back loosely with wisps softening around the face, I think. I've never seen her; . . . more
|
|
March 11, 2007 04:34 PM EDT --
This prose poem is dedicated to that magnifique intellectual and poet par excellence, John Walter. Who I'm in love with. Isn't every woman on Gather? Ahh... some of the lines in this piece came . . . more
|
|
June 24, 2007 11:52 AM EDT --
Light catches diamonds in the fabric sewn in diagonal rows with a round disc of thread at each intersection. Discs that gleam like the sun at noon or during an eclipse, depending if the light is outside . . . more
|
|
September 12, 2006 08:53 PM EDT --
In the unfathomableness of what happens to us as we live our lives, the places where we are so profoundly jolted we can barely understand what the forward momentum should be if we are to remain free of, . . . more
|
|
January 07, 2007 02:24 PM EST --
Should I stay, or move on?
This question central in many facets of my life presently. Yet even the new vistas we explore become continuations of the old issues from which we cannot escape. The . . . more
|
|
September 26, 2007 08:57 PM EDT --
Even that, Fabrizio’s would have recorded.
Florinda’s real love, documenting her all-too human condition,
Florinda standing in the glass anteroom of the museum,
breasts straining against the . . . more
|
|
September 26, 2006 09:38 PM EDT --
Retitled my latest prose poem:
Writings of 'Who'
I have no intention of leaving Gather, even if I find Blogspot's Terms of Service more 'author-friendly.' Gather is a vibrant and . . . more
|
|
September 01, 2006 11:51 AM EDT --
Tonality of the moon. The deep listening to the speaking that is witheld in the voice. What hides in the silence that isn't silent. Where the gasp, retreat, plummeting. Clouds mull over the moon, concealing . . . more
|
|
April 21, 2008 09:13 AM EDT --
.
Gather Essentials, Books. Vol 6, No. 1 Art and Science: The Case of the Robin.
All art presupposes some degree of scientific method. All science begins with the art of ideas. . . . more
|
|
January 05, 2007 12:13 PM EST --
There are words I must speak, though surely never will. You call me across the expanse. I kiss your eyelids. I lie over you softly, breathing with you. With each wave of breath, like seafoam, I cover you . . . more
|
|
August 08, 2006 09:24 PM EDT --
http://wordpainting.gather.com
Do you paint pictures with your words? Are you a writer who is an artist, photographer, filmmaker? Word Painting is a multi-media group.
Group Tags: drawing, muse, arts, . . . more
|
|
September 02, 2006 02:42 AM EDT --
A recording of Soundscapes, the Moon: DSL/Cable, or Dial-up.
more
|
|
August 15, 2006 11:57 PM EDT --
Hard couple of sweaty hours. Time, incorrigible, leaden. Like a rusted French crown.
Beer holes, bag moulds
thumbs
stuck on tacks.
Empty boxes
of styrofoam
caskets.
Leaned over the small cupboard, . . . more
|
|
August 16, 2006 10:35 PM EDT --
Updated: A recording of "A Day for Bastille"... high speed; dial-up.
See poem here.
more
|
|
March 18, 2007 01:16 AM EDT --
An apartment after the tenants move out
Cupboards with no food in them
A dog when she’s been abandoned
A woman alone at night, sleeping on a park bench
A child when his father leaves and never . . . more
|
|
March 12, 2007 02:13 AM EDT --
Winds from the desert
blow into the city
The sun burns white hot
searing the skin like lit coal.
The beaches are crowded
children build dreams with wet sand
while parents watch, alert for any danger--- . . . more
|
|
|
|