Perhaps, you cannot change your jail,
And you can't choose the lumps and scars --
No matter how you scream or wail --
But you pick your view through the bars.
Perspective [Lyric Poem]
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Category Archives: Perception
PROMPT: Judge of Character
While I might flatter myself that I can recognize an asshole when I see one, the truth is that stealth assholes are real.
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Information Boneyard [Free Verse]
The Information Age
bloomed & died
from wave after wave
of information inflation
and counterfeit information -
cheap knockoffs flooded
the market!
We live in a
post-information world:
an information junkyard,
to be precise.
Rusting, useless detritus
poses as treasure.
We catch glints
and think it value,
But even turds can glitter
in the Sun.
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PROMPT: Animals
Sure, I just saw a bird fly past my window, and I’m fairly certain that it wasn’t domesticated.
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Chinatown [Senryū]
through the paifang*,
you leave your city,
but you're not in China.
*A paifang (牌坊) is the gate over a street or road that denotes the bounds of a Chinatown.
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PROMPT: Passionate
I’m passionate about being passionate about anything worth doing (and half-ass everything else.)
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PROMPT: Good Life
Daily writing prompt
What are the most important things needed to live a good life?
Right mind, healthy body, and good company.
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River Vision [Free Verse]
in a flat, wide river:
something juts up
from the water --
far in the distance
for an instant,
i startle:
seeing it as an
extended arm...
like that Stevie Smith
poem, but i discover
it's neither waving,
nor drowning, but
merely protruding...
a dead limb
stuck in the river,
drag & pull balanced,
waiting to be
carried away.
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“The Bell” by Ralph Waldo Emerson [w/ Audio]
I love thy music, mellow bell,
I love thine iron chime,
To life or death, to heaven or hell,
Which calls the sons of Time.
Thy voice upon the deep
The home-bound sea-boy hails,
It charms his cares to sleep,
It cheers him as he sails.
To house of God and heavenly joys
Thy summons called our sires,
And good men thought thy sacred voice
Disarmed the thunder's fires.
And soon thy music, sad death-bell,
Shall lift its notes once more,
And mix my requiem with the wind
That sweeps my native shore.
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“The earth has many keys” (1775) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
The earth has many keys,
Where melody is not
Is the unknown peninsula.
Beauty is nature's fact.
But witness for her land,
And witness for her sea,
The cricket is her utmost
Of elegy to me.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 