My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013


write off

his terse retort, "lame,"
spoke volumes on how well
he'd cooperate with us

"lack of respect drives in a wedge."

This was an interesting write.  The middle came quite quickly using this week's Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>cooperate, lame, terse] prompt.  Normally it is a simultaneous struggle between the first and middle verse; they tend to go hand in hand.  I get a general idea for the initial word (though it is subject to change) while pulling the middle and end together with the given words.  For this one, the middle came so quickly I was at a complete loss for what the initial word and its followers should be.  The last line is basically impossible to write with out the initial word.  Maybe it is the way this poem unfolded that has me not quite content...ah...but then again, when am I ever content.

On a Side Note:  Recently I posted that I would be limiting my use of this blog.  I feel it has fulfilled its purpose and that it is time for me to move on.  Unfortunately, letting go is not all that easy...or maybe it is fortunate, because I will (at least for a time) be maintaining two things here: my weekly contributions to OpenLinkNight over at dVerse and my last Wednesday of the month "clarity pyramid meets 3WW" for Three Word Wednesday.    I have just recently taken up residency elsewhere in case you care to drop in.

Monday, March 25, 2013

4 Last Call: Tumor Vision

Tumor Vision

Busy casino carpets should be just that,
an array of visual designs intended to stir
the bustling atmosphere  NOT
a twisted version of Munch's "The Scream"
head burning in hellish flames.

I so long for the artist's hand
to sketch out what only my eyes seem to see.

Dark volcanic clouds should be just that,
billowing plums of smoke and ash
casting an ominous fear  NOT
a demon awakening from a long slumber
intent on destruction and death.

I so long for the artist's hand
to outline what only my eyes seem to see.

Bird poop on a car window should be just that,
a disgusting nuisance foretelling good luck
that should be wiped away  NOT
a mustached man wearing a bearskin hat
standing guard at the window.

I so long for the artist's hand;
I itch to unearth these visions  unseen,
to breathe life into them with a skillful hand,
in turn distilling the crazy notion
that (a)
I'm crazy and (b)
there's a tumor
pressing on my brain.

Oh, how I long for the artist's hand.

Is it just me....  Or can you see what I see?

For some reason most people I've asked see an owl.
(image by rmp, that's me)

photo taken by Martin Rietze

Mustached Man in Bearskin Hat
(image by rmp, that's me)

An Aside:  Photo #2 also inspired a poem called, Volcanic Eruptions (which can be found on my new blog). The post also includes a version of the image where I attempt to point out the demon in all of his glory.

I'm ahead of schedule this week, but...this is my offerings for this week's dVerse Poets Pub OpenLinkNight. If you get a chance, check out all of the talented poets who have stepped up into the spotlight.