skew is me
sarcasm
kept mum
ectoplasm
woke l’homme
in each mile
some guile
skew is me
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facebook JAIL
My Facebook friend Sandra thinks she is in, or has been in, or is headed for, Facebook Jail due to a complaint from a Trump supporter with whom she is having issues. I have never been to Facebook Jail myself, but I take it it is similar to a player being sent to the penalty box in the sport of Hockey, and that a Jailed person is temporarily blocked from commenting on one, some or all Facebook posts.
The first reaction I had on this news, Acrosticist that I am, is realization that Facebook is eight letters long, and Jail is four. Regard the image above and It’s easy to see why “Facebook Jail” makes a candidate for one of my unconventional acrostic. Not an ideal one, though. Words ending with J are few and far between unless you go phonetic (“hoj-poj”) or use initials (“DJ” or Baywatch’s “CJ”). The alternative is to go Midwestern, which I did.
Here are the words, arranged prosishly because I lack my laptop right now and haven’t figured out how to make single-line breaks on this Samsung phone.
For pilgrims on a Hajj a cell is not a Taj. Called out and psychic enema – exfoliant – anathema. Banned like Matisse, Henri. Oublietted with ennui. O innocents made criminal know punishments subliminal.
Hang in there, Sandra! Hope you get sprung soon!
crystal shaped
crystal shaped
consider Fate as jigsaw pieces
rattling in a box. enmesh
your handful of pieces so a
satisfying array pops up
then realize it’s wrong–a trap
and that arrangement cannot be
lest cosmic law be violated
Life Goes On
Life & Galileo
Is O Sole Mio
Friendliness & Pen
Elevates us then
ICAD xv: show tell
show tell
stage magicians may regret
holes in hat & serviette
on the right a storygirl
waging world peace whirl by whirl
Lone Lean Ness
There’s a book, a classic of science fiction, called MORE THAN HUMAN. The main characters are incomplete as individuals but have a way to do a thing called “bleshing,” which is a mashup of blending and meshing. One of the characters is known as Lone.
There’s a principle of biomechanics indicating a strong correlation between low body fat and success in marathons. Marathoner Hal Higdon had a total body fat around 9%. He also had an incredibly low resting heart rate–somewhere around 29 beats per minute. I am tooth-grindingly envious of such gifted people.
Rumor has it that a creature unlike any other dwells in Loch Ness.
Lone Lean Ness
Lifetimes loom beyond our ken
One’s a bleak Tragedienne
Nother quakes as Endgame nears
EVERYMAN still perseveres
There are two main types of Loneliness. One tastes of Solitude and the other of Uniqueness.
chance glance
In Phoenix, Arizona, where I live, there is a light-rail conveyance that runs through town. Years before its construction I had a dream that there would be a train that ran through town, a commuter train like big cities like Chicago had. “What a crazy dream,” I thought on awakening. But it happened.
I ride it often, and am often struck by how many different universes it contains due to its passengers. There are the realities of going to work, coming home from work, coming home from prison, going off to do something that may end a body up in the slammer, heavily pregnant woman and her man, jeering student, motorchaired sufferer, baseball fan, dog-toter. Lives wildly unalike, intersecting in a passenger car.
chance glance
circumstances changing
holographic will
archetypes estranging–a
nail melts in a kiln
cello flute & voice harmonic
enter old realms, Hypersonicke
Other Cages, Other Walls
It is not a new idea that we are all prisoners in our own skulls, nor that walls by their nature keep some would-be invaders out and also keep the wall-builders in. Ecclesiastes says both “There is nothing new under the sun” and “all IS Vanity.” The newness is in observation of current conditions that uniquely apply. And in gimmickry, which is rife on this page, and in this acrostic poem.
Other Cages, Other Walls
O to S T O P that overflow
Topple stem and overthrow
Help a migrant to rejecta
Earn a nation’s cowed respect–a
Rig a mortis reach upHEAVE-all
CommanDante cache bequeathe
Aliens a fear-thee-well
Gain that Seventh Parallel
Eat our Wheaties wear our Nikes
See us altering our Psyches
4 Poets
Four friends, four poets, four engaging souls, four celebrations. Three are also event hosts and one is also participating in the Index Card A Day challenge, just as I am.
I acquired the photo I used for this drawing from a bittersweet event conducted by Four Chambers Press, which was closing its metaphorical doors. Called “From Our Heart To Yours,” the event was one last get-together that included a giveaway of everything Four Chambers had produced yet not sold. I took one of their anthologies, one of their poet’s chapbooks, a photo of Jake Friedman at a microphone–and the photo I based this drawing on. Among the liberties I took with the pic was moving the four poets around to achieve a more Mount-Rushmore-like arrangement.
4 Poets
Formed the phrases grab and pop
Forgotten time rebirthed just so
Foregone conclusion laid to waste
Formalities seem silliest
Foretaste of life’s peculiar truths
full stop/fake muse/Grace Under Water
Today sees one of those feeling-uninspired sessions of trying to light a fire with wet matches. So–draw a skinny upper leg. Attach an asthenic young woman with an icebag on her knee, held down by her crossed wrists, holding a smartphone and possibly taking the viewer’s picture. Go on from there. Finish the page but, feeling undone, start another. Draw an eye, then its mate. Attach a dissipated-looking not-quite-young face to it. Draw and compose by the seat of your pants. Finish the page, unsatisfied.
View them both at once. Not as bad. One thing’s for sure, neither works by itself. Some of the poetry is OK.
Friends, welcome to The Creative Process on a day when the artist/poet feels anything but creative. Artists CANNOT WAIT for Inspiration. The creation-rheostat has a full range, from 100%, which is Effortless and Seems Like It’s Creating Itself, to 0%, which is Death Valley and Tooth Extraction and You Don’t Know What The Hell You’re Doing all rolled into one. But every bit of directed effort is part of the continuum, part of the tapestry. So we grind on when we must, and savor when it soars.
full stop
failed the tests
under arrest
let that cop go
lollipop
fake muse
falsecolor galaxy fruit of the loom
antioch prep deuteronomy u
kale & verbatimy transcript–no mas
endochrinology–lift demitasse
Grace Under Water
Grant us thunder & a law
Rip nonSense & blablabla
Access wonder & delight
Catch some breezes w/yr kite
Etch & render ❤ u tender
One with Clay, Image and Text 