Content: ethereal angel

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Well, hello, there you sort of are, at 3 in the morning.

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A subtle edit. Re-presenting. Ta-da!

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The interior...not that fun. Yawn. I think I'm...disintegrating?

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Just fun for today.

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Ride tandem with me.

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The Body Delicious.

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It started out as a contemplation about cereal, and well, what can I say, I'm so darn sleepy right now. One thing led to another and, as I'm wont to do, I go off into tangents that give birth to baby tangents. Tangent-rines?

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Existing in the definite and the in-between.

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I'll provide both questions AND answer.

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What bites?

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Accept my humble offering.

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Work-in-progress.

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How would it feel? Can we really imagine the depths of guilt and mourning?

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Shout out of love and appreciation to a strong, beautiful woman in my life.

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Spur of the moment. Not meant to be taken too seriously. Or if you want to tackle it's form, etc.--but all means, do!

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I have feelings, too! You never thought I did, huh?

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They kid themselves when they say "we are all just normal folk deep inside." But do they kid us?

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Had a little fun with this one. All feedback welcome.

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Another prompt-driven one for the workshop. Just a teaser. Does it suffice? Should it blossom forth more?

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1st draft. All types of feedback welcome.

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Was enchanted with everyone else's so decided to put my beloved haiku to rest for a small bit and try this on for size.

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Perhaps a thin, silken connection to the 1st Galatea poem.

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I'm fussing over line breaks and word choices... help! I like the way it is broken up right now, but does it convey the correct mood? Should there be a more uniform, rhythmic look to it? The breaks are enticement and longing, but do they just appear jagged?

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Are the line breaks funky? What possible topics can I be speaking of? Too cryptic? (Ha, the tags give it away) **EDITED: 1/11/11

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Second chances are eye-opening. Sometimes you just need to step back and assess from an observer's point-of-view. Step back and breathe.

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3/9- I realize what part of the issh may be-- the stanza breaks are all funky... that's why this reads as one long rant (not necessarily a bad thing)! I tried fixing the breaks. Twice. No luck. Reposting for NPM at FB. maybe it'll look better there. Cross your fingers. It's been awhile, but I'm diving right in-- so the mind is willing but a little obstructed, or at least, the technique's a little rusty. I may have switched the flow a bit, you'll notice, in the way I chose to break each line. Does it still work? Or would a little more uniformity be stronger?

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Woke up to capture. Must be my fever talking.

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First draft. Will run over a few more times to restructure/refine. Are some phrase still to common, undescriptive, stale?

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The words and thoughts struck me at an odd hour and I rushed to arrange them into coherent patterns. I started with a haiku, but felt it was lacking. The second stanza follows a certain symmetry in it has 5 syllables per line, 4 lines.

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Companion poem to previous submission.

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I'm fond of loosely using the 5-7-5 of the haiku format, but not exactly creating a haiku in strict theme and rules. 3 and 4 also hold appeal for me (don't ask me to rationalize that) so many of this type of unconventional poem that I do have 3 lines and four stanzas. Someone try to analyze the weird math behind that. A friend pointed out that the 4th stanza is stilted, compared to the previous 3. Agree? The word "variable" was a little issue; "vehr-YAH-bull" makes the last line fit the 5 syllable count, "veh-RI-yah-bull" makes it 6. Don't go all Texas on me (like an ex-boyfriend did) and say it's the latter, haha.

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Stay how it is? Run away with it?

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The words teased at my mind for a bit, so I took them for a stroll.

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Continuation of thought from the haiku I posted (among other things).

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Needed a snack for my haiku craving today.

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Cynthia A. inspired the "romantic notions" I pondered on and off yesterday that then lead to this poem. I think I should be working on the TV poem, but, oh well.

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Another story of romantic vs realistic "love." Do the line breaks works? Are some phrases to "tired?" I tried to balance more imaginative descriptions with a touch of the straightforward.

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Flowing Pencil's poem that she pulled from her "archives" inspired me to share a really old poem of mine, from way back when first decided to pick up a pen and give poetry-writing a try. Don't laugh-- I liked the "flowers and candy" approach back then. :)

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Plain nonsense to soothe my restlessness. No-- not really about sparkly baubles. But then again you knew that.

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My prose poetry class ("proem," as Cynthia A. calls it, haha) assigned us to read and be inspired by "Song of Songs." This didn't come across so much "admire from afar" like I felt "Song of Songs" did. I did want to pick up on some of the attention to detail given to the lover's form-- though not neccesarily in metaphor, but more intimate, knowing and literal.

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It grows on you and you begin to anticipate it.

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Just a morsel to satisfy a wee craving (or reopened hole?)

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What weighs more, if you cannot have all?

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Elena Castillo, newly-minted Vampire "Queen" of San Francisco learns quickly to tackle the challenges, politics and intrigues of reigning over her own Court. She begins to see how this offers just about as many dilemmas as navigating the confusing waters of the life of a "normal" 20-something single living (and hopefully loving) in the City. Who knew finding a decent man in the Bay Area would be so hard? Wasn't she supposed to have left this kind of drama behind... some four centuries ago?

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This was sort of a side story that popped out of an exercise I was doing for the novel I'm (trying!) to work on. I'm pretty, pretty green at this. All nature of help is much appreciated.

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Short, sweet... maybe fun? Happy New Year, and a happy year of writing to everyone!

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This is one of those times where romantic (frustration) overload isn't inspiring me to put pen to paper. The right words seemed "clogged up." A friend here told me to not overthink it and write it like it feels. So here's its first draft. Any and all comments are welcome.

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Dedicated to all the beautiful women who've inspired me.

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Living and breathing for a ghost. Or is she the ghost to him?

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I took some of Pearl's advice, and took it out of the haiku form to add more room for spanish words.

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Some things lead to others. A friend sent a long email and photos of himself kiteboarding. I meant to write a haiku about the pictures, the water, the colors, how I imagined it felt to be right there-- and this intercepted those thoughts. Strange.

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More reflections on my journey through spins, twists,snubs, shocks and (still) the occasional moments of two left feet.

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It is a tough road to navigate with someone, but when done in synch with the other, it is this perfect, difficult dance.

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Looking hot for an upcoming event is so dang hard for an unfocused soul like me. Too many distractions.

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Some slightly silly, romantic, summer fun.

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Go ahead, rip it apart, haha. I don't know what overcame me, but I just had to wiite these words.

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Flow in the fourth stanza still bugs me. I eliminated words I really wanted to use, to help the flow, but point out to me what else may be the problem.

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A poem I penned about a year ago. It's a first draft-- no edits yet? Does it flow? Are the words I'm using too "ho-hum?"

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Attraction/Repulsion.

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Lovers exploration.

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Lamenting more than a fling.

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Waiting, waiting, waiting. Email me already!

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Become what you detest most (meant in humour. Maybe).

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There's a bit of a backstory to this-- too long to tell, though, and too involved for something that I just thought up, spur of the moment. The little nutshell of it is that the title is a portion of what someone told as explanation, closure for the end of our relationship. It didn't tie things up neatly, though. The choice of words may not be the best-- I'm open to suggestions.

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An invisible line in the sand has been drawn. Bring it own, baby.

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This was supposed to have been a longer "thought," hence the "part I." Tell me if it hinted (strongly? faintly?) at talking about one thing, yet thinking about another.

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Relationships you invest heart and soul in leave you baffled when you are the one left out in the cold.

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A little suspicious of "happiness."

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A love poem for my son, Christian.

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A romantic relationship eroded to dust is sad enough, a longtime friendship with someone who is like family to you, is too tragic to think about.

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The middle gets unwieldy, in my opinion. Help in effectively hacking, please!

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The revolving door of love.

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From the moment you can understand, until the day you leave us, you'll always cling to this one "truth."

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Looking for a sign and none in sight.

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Doomed before it even began.

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Poor schmuck.

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To Stijn, a muse whose inspiration mirrored love's pure purpose: to arrive at the most propituous time, and leave when your blessing has been bestowed.

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