ㅁ nights surpass the dull days... elegiac, oneiric transits across stochastic space, full of windings, ergodic retrogressions into instants that fade like aimless bursts of color
– a reverse nonnet.
Category: A Daily Poem
Caveat: Poem #3008 “Self-contained bird-objects”
ㅁ Seagulls meditate in white-blob form, just floating out on the water.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #3007 “Ritual behavior”
ㅁ Boat lifted, put away nice and cozy, and sometime next spring it'll be relaunched.
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Poem #3006 “Stop and smell the flowers”
ㅁ I keep getting lost in weird liminal spaces... can't find anything.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #3005 “Political discourse”
ㅁ Regardless, texts will justify beliefs we hold ex ante, so... let's make a text, the words will fly! Regardless, texts will justify and warp our minds, we can't defy... our own unreasoned meanings flow. Regardless, texts will justify beliefs we hold ex ante, so!
– a triolet.
Caveat: Poem #3004 “The most recent storm”
ㅁ the wind foretold rain the rain came then in great sheets assaulting the night
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #3003 “Inertial conditions”
ㅁ having fallen down seemed best to just take a rest and get up later
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #3002 “Refugees”
ㅁ Fall is the season when mice sneak in. The temperatures drop, outside. Everything gets rained on. Summer's berries are gone. The warm house beckons. What's not to like? Some crumbs left. It seems... Safe?
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #3001 “A thing that happened”
ㅁ the Fall's first frost came, painted the dock and pier white; some ducks swam away.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #3000 “A giant pile”
ㅁ so many banal poems accumulate... then there's a nice round number like this one.
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Poem #2999 “Dream journal”
ㅁ I had a bad dream. I was so angry, I raged. I wrecked the gift store.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2998 “Fall’s flight”
ㅁ The seagull sat, observing things. The tide, the rocks, a swimming fish. A duck that ducked, some rippling rings. The seagull sat, observing things. I wonder if the bird might wish that Fall was slower with its wings. The seagull sat, observing things. The tide, the rocks, a swimming fish.
– a triolet.
Caveat: Poem #2997 “Eighty-first stanza”
ㅁ Kiamon stood by the side of the road... feelings were grim, and the gray skies had snowed. Nobody stopped to assist her. The cars kept zooming past with their tail-lights like stars.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
Caveat: Poem #2996 “The discovery”
ㅁ Some crows found a truck, which was black, just like they were. They seemed to like this.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2995 “The full moon”
ㅁ Assertions of luminosity: the moon proffers her axioms. To wit: autumnal changes, after the equinox, include stormy gales, driving downpours, lost rainbows, blowing leaves.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2994 “Progress”
ㅁ the blueberry shrub outside the kitchen window has turned bright purple
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2993 “The online life”
ㅁ blog or not... emptiness receives wisdom: the bodhisattvas don't go online much
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Poem #2992 “The crash at Eden”
ㅁ the sneaky snake entered the garden hopped up on his self-deceptions like a chatbot on prozac and gave his wanton pitch elevator-style to the kids there this one girl succumbed crashed
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2991 “Submission”
ㅁ The wind whipped rain, and caused a feeling: a vague, pathetic fallacy took hold of me, and left me reeling. The storm pushed rain, and gave a feeling: nostalgia gripped, my soul was dealing, bowed down to nature's papacy. The storm pushed rain, and gave a feeling: a vague, pathetic fallacy.
– a triolet.
Caveat: Poem #2990 “Outward”
ㅁ there's no sense of rest no respite from nagging guilt sleep is all that's left
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2989 “Surrender”
ㅁ Lately I hate life. I feel nothing anymore. Why do I bother?
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2988 “It’s possible this poem has no name”
ㅁ I made secret, unknowable poems. Crafted with pure banalities, they occupied remote screens, distant from daily life. These were words for fate: disquisitions against time; perfect rants.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2987 “Unrecorded events”
ㅁ with rain, came dragons, who all coiled in the treetops supervising sleep
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2986 “Around the corner”
ㅁ doom impends portended coming along well it's just this feeling you get sometimes
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Poem #2986 “Precepts beyond history”
ㅁ rain came this weekend filled the downhill-rushing creeks turned over some stones
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2985 “Antumnos”
ㅁ The otherworld unleashed its dogs; they chased us through the timeless trees. We fled and jumped those ancient logs. The otherworld unleashed its dogs. We fell and tasted moss and bogs. The murky water grasped our knees. The otherworld unleashed its dogs; they chased us through the timeless trees.
– a triolet.
Caveat: Poem #2984 “Reason to not”
ㅁ "No time like present" - except all those other times that were just like now.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2983 “The old house, again”
ㅁ I dreamed that Arthur became possessed by some remodeling demon. So while I was gone at work, He began adding things - random additions - to his odd house: stray basements, towers, leaks.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2982 “In praise of the banal”
ㅁ Banality is worthy stuff: it centers things, and pulls the fringes back from fevered dreams, it moderates the fools.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Caveat: Poem #2981 “Zzzap!”
ㅁ Twenty years later, I still get "brain zaps" sometimes. Yay SSRIs.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Poem #2980 “Grounded beside the parking lot”
ㅁ Wind rushed through, bashed the walls of our building. The structure creaked like an old sailing ship.
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Poem #2979 “Eightieth stanza”
ㅁ Kiamon never could disregard signs showing conspiracies, visable lines, tracing connections between sundry groups. Gazing at traffic, she pondered these loops.
– a quatrain in a dactylic tetrameter. A nonsequential snapshot into a fictional being’s life.
Caveat: Poem #2978 “Cartesian contemplations”
ㅁ I try to think about my brain, but thing comes to mind, it seems. Perception stops outside, it's plain. I try to think about my brain. The soul and body split in twain. A language rules inside, in streams. I try to think about my brain, but thing comes to mind, it seems.
– a triolet.