ㅁ Maps - conjured, imagined - and stored, abstract, as all ones and zeros, then rendered upon request, sent streaming through the internet and displayed as vast, complex portraits.
– a reverse nonnet.
Category: Book 3
Caveat: Poem #1871 “Too many blows”
ㅁ Oh, and then the rain came hard, pounding down, its drumming sound in the yard leaving all the gravel scarred.
– an englyn penfyr.
Caveat: Poem #1870 “Jabberwockism”
ㅁ Sometimes I utter nonsense. To myself. Mumassa helf. Lavik lence. Oof. Silence.
– an englyn cil-dwrn.
Caveat: Poem #1869 “Not like normal”
ㅁ I have been getting older, recently, indecently. I shudder and wonder.
– an englyn cil-dwrn.
Caveat: Poem #1868 “Forty-first stanza”
ㅁ Kiamon stared at the mist and the trees. Recent events filled her soul with unease. All of reality's rules had been bent. Now she'd just wait and would see how things went.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
Caveat: Poem #1867 “Fortieth stanza”
ㅁ Kiamon studied the map in detail trying her best to determine her trail. Hopelessly lost, she set out in the end, randomly choosing a turn past the bend.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
Caveat: Poem #1866 “The dogs of this here island”
ㅁ A dog rode in a truck's back. Another dog watched, jaw slack. A third one sprawled on its back.
– an englyn milwr.
Caveat: Poem #1865 “Maintenance”
ㅁ I checked the water cistern: not filling. I tried cleaning a filter; that made it somewhat better.
– an englyn penfyr.
Caveat: Poem #1864 “Arcata, California, 1971”
ㅁ The road is wet; the cars can make a sound evoking rainy childhood days inscribed by ancient time across the mind's expanse, that rise unbidden, closing off the now.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter).
Caveat: Poem #1863 “Things in -ato”
ㅁ The lowly greenhouse... I grow, amid weeds not from seeds, my tomato, perhaps a few potato.
– an englyn penfyr.
Caveat: Poem #1862 “The rain came”
ㅁ Just in case we were having a drought... well, we were not having a drought. The rain came and moistened leaves. The rain came to wash roads. The rain came and pooled. The rain fell down. The rain hung. The rain came.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1861 “This poem is self-aware”
ㅁ No poem is shorter than this. But words rise from the abyss. Stopping now would be remiss.
– an englyn milwr.
Caveat: Poem #1860 “Imitation”
ㅁ I set things up and ran it. But then the server just quit. I guess I'll take a break, sit.
– an englyn milwr.
Caveat: Poem #1859 “Nevermind”
ㅁ Nah. Won't work. Why would it? Be nice to have. But I don't know how. I keep learning new things. Still, there's always more out there. And I sometimes get overwhelmed. So you'll have to patient for now.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1858 “Orbis tertia”
ㅁ Mash the keys and with time a world is made, order emerges, influences spread out, conquering all time and space, like a net capturing some fish, but even then it's not really real.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1857 “Canvas”
ㅁ I look out the window at the fog. It's pleasant and calming to see: a blank slate where I can dwell. There's no mountain, no sea. I draft my own world. That works quite well. A bird calls. Fish jump. Splork.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1856 “No GPS, either”
ㅁ If you look at the map, carefully, maybe you will learn where you are. But what if the map and world are not on the same page? What if you're dreaming imagined things and the map isn't real?
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1855 “The monkey mind”
ㅁ some things lurk and wait and can cause stress and ask the mind to test its doubts no ghost can dodge this mind's work but nor do they bow down they just furl their souls drift through loose time leave their signs on stones dark
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1854 “The”
ㅁ The world, the places, the sky and sea, the people in it, the words they tend to use, the most common expressions, the scattered semantic fragments, the ever-flowing meaninglessness, the
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1853 “Primeval”
ㅁ First: nothing. Unholy. The road's imposed, the trees forced to yield, the small streams surmounted, and the rocks are crushed and spread. But below, the absences wait. The potholes are older than the road.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1852 “No, not nevermore”
ㅁ The sun was still a bit too low to see but dawn's begrudging fingers grasped the sky. A raven came and sat outside my room and watched me watch it staring down at me.
– a quatrain in blank verse (iambic pentameter).
Caveat: Poem #1851 “Powerless”
ㅁ Another dream where I failed, and drifted lost, unwanted, goals veiled, as if jailed.
– an englyn cil-dwrn.
Caveat: Poem #1850 “Joe’s halibut”
ㅁ At the southwest edge of Saint Ignace a mongo halibut was hooked the sea surged in sympathy and the blue-gray waves leapt and the wind drew lines while the fish fought but was caught reeled in died.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1849 “Hanging out in Panmunjeom, forever”
ㅁ I took a bus to the DMZ I didn't cross but just hung out then the dream got really weird the South Koreans said I couldn't come back so I was there like Kafka adrift trapped
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1848 “Nonnet vs haiku”
ㅁ A reader noticed all these nonnets. They queried as to why nonnets? I said I'd tired of haiku. Now the default's nonnets. If you liked haiku, well, go make one. Or read one from before. Right?
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1847 “Naturalistic fallacy”
ㅁ The wind came and aroused all the trees. They danced and waved and carried on. The sky observed, unobserved. A dragonfly flew by. Clouds gathered and sulked. The sun peaked through. A branch broke. It fell. Creak.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1846 “A poor substitute”
ㅁ I had a dream where I wrote a poem. The dream-poem was quite amazing. The words were all well-crafted. It seemed a masterpiece. I knew I'd awake. The poem would fade, forgotten, unreal, gone.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1845 “The greenhouse report”
ㅁ My greenhouse has its hits and misses. It has done well with cucumbers. Onions, though: mediocre. A few green tomatoes. A fine hot pepper. Some nice carrots. And always lots of mold.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1844 “Perseverance”
ㅁ I plow through time, inconsolable, as if it were heavy, deep snow, exhilarated by cold but unclear on what goals I should be chasing, stepping ahead, feeling feet go down... whomp.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1843 “The fog”
ㅁ The fog is a cloud suffering doubt. The fog has some low self-esteem. The fog is the risen sea. The fog absorbs the light. The fog grasps the earth. The fog is damp. The fog waits. The fog is...
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1842 “Foiled ambitions”
ㅁ The tree's being, unfathomable, defies gravity for a while, attempting to run away, to rise up and escape, yearning for the sky, for the cool clouds, but it can't, it's stuck, still.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1841 “Storm”
ㅁ A storm from the west presses the sea. The sea leaps up and climbs the rocks. It pushes the dock up, down, and rocks the little boat, which pulls at its ropes. Flecks of white foam line the beach. The trees swing.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #1840 “Trackless”
ㅁ feeling directionless lacks self-motivation gut-wrenching boredom
– a pseudo-haiku.