(found) better

ideas that began
as unexpected fragments
scented with harbor light
have blue promise
better than medication

the sunset

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a poetic exercise in wanderlust
painstakingly blending
red, purple, garden thyme
to reflect fields of splendor
a cup of summer water

The last page of my yes-words journal. Pasting in hard copies of the poems…then what should I do with it?

a found poem, dark

like the end of the world—

steep spires of seagreen slate
pine woods, numberless
flock of ravens dreaming
devilry, clouds of pride
madness, mysterious sorrow—

a double dose of poison

 

from an atmospheric paragraph of G. K. Chesterton’s story “The Honour of Israel Gow”

let’s muse on the gray areas

waiting for Great Beauty to fall into my lap

We want to be left alone

studying the starlight—
in our search for habitable worlds
we don’t yet know the mass
or what they’re made of.

In our search for habitable worlds,
compelling clouds may be
what they’re made of;
or a small, dark circle on reddish ball.

Compelling clouds may be
practically in our backyard
with a small, dark circle on reddish ball
(the dimming sun).

Practically in our backyard,
fixed in the sky,
the dimming sun
shows a transiting planet.

Fixed on the sky,
we don’t yet know: this mass
shows a transiting planet
studying our starlight.

 

A pantoum of found phrases from this article on the discovery of “3 strange worlds” and this article about today’s transit of Mercury. Yeah Write’s weekly prompt is “We want to be left alone.”

Your present question marks

are going to succeed. A lover
of words will write a book; bread
today is better than cake tomorrow

Like dreams of rose petals or earth
to flying birds, an upward movement
counteracts fate and fortune will descend

You will witness a miracle. Someday
everything will make perfect sense;
your shoes will make you happy

 

Another found poem for NaPoWriMo Day 13, this one made of fortune cookie sayings found here. 

Two Found Poems

(1) Songs of the Self

Self-preoccupation as art’s raw material:
allegory, ambiguity, blindness
obsession theories. Monophony. Bleak house.

(2) Bookish

When one has lived a long time alone
the world, the flesh, and angels—no
more than leaves of grass
joyful noise:
poemcrazy

 

First, an index poem for NaPoWriMo Day 12. (Index and other phrases from The Creators by Daniel J. Boorstin.) Second, a book spine poem, a bit behind for NaPoWriMo Day 10.

Chaining the Muse

I recall blue murmur
mist-mad beauty
lighted beneath

(another castle
struggles away)

I wish wild
miracles true
rock rain & after

Another session with the Magnetic Poetry muse.

Sanctuary

A long year of watching
strife. (Earth, ocean, sun
sky, the very air above
suffers.) So this means—?
Come. Could we love?
Breathe peace song
in every language?

I was feeling pretty blank this morning, so I pulled out my mystical Magnetic Poetry set. Here’s what I found in the words. PAD Chapbook Challenge Day 18 prompt is “an idea poem.”