Tag: Poetry Friday

It’s as if someone flipped a switch: autumn. Leaves are suddenly transfixed in livid red, and if we haven’t had frost by the end…

I love you, Sherman Alexie. I still don’t think of him as a poet, but his words occasionally make me spontaneously weep.

A friend I met my junior year in college gave me a few lines of verse by an author I hadn’t heard of —…

God in the Detailsby Mike White I’ve seen to it that antscarry their dead in the ceremonial styleof a great long poem but the…

” I can’t tell you how many times my whole self has been saved by one moment of beauty. One string of words. One…

There are few writing forms as beautiful as pictographs. I have fiddled with Chinese brush writing and calligraphy, and loved studying cuneiform in World…

The Microbeby Hilaire Belloc [1870-1953] The Microbe is so very smallYou cannot make him out at all,But many sanguine people hopeTo see him through…

ODE ON MELANCHOLYNO, no! go not to Lethe, neither twistWolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kistBy nightshade, ruby…

Yes! It’s Poetry Friday. But I want to be *sure* you get your daily dose of bad writing before we get to the good….

The other night, this was on the TV. After a “what the heck was THAT!?” moment, I realized this little piece of animated goodness…