ㅁ Still, the world continues: the divisions of the calendar seeming arbitrary, assembled like children's blocks into precarious constructs, implausible in the face of time.
– a reverse nonnet.
Category: Nonnet
Caveat: Poem #2706 “Timekeeping”
ㅁ The year tumbled along like other years, an aimless, intricate clockwork, the days its gears and levers, the nights its enclosure, until it wound down, ticked more slowly, and unsprung; digits flipped.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2700 “Summarizing the Christmas tree at work”
☆ Star. Eagle. Gold Branches. Snowboarding bear. Pickup truck with tree. And other ornaments. Some hovering hummingbirds. Lights arrayed throughout - tiny points. Scattering of boxes with colored bows.
– a reverse nonnet, summarizing the Christmas tree at work.
Caveat: Poem #2681 “The yellow grass”
ㅁ The tall grass waves alongside the road, bleached pale yellow by the winter, twisting and dancing in wind, which swarms off the sea's arms... woeful, abandoned, perennial but asleep until Spring.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2680 “Secret knowledge”
ㅁ Some people have reached out to ask me, "Why do you write poems about rain? "I mean, really... so many?" My answer is simple: in a rainforest, "write what you know"... what you live what's there now.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2679 “The emissaries”
ㅁ Some days the clouds are more insistent. They send down damp emissaries: pelting, aggressive raindrops that gather in the trees run down to the rocks collect in streams race downhill and seek seas.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2678 “The 70’s”
ㅁ We sit and watch these old tv shows. In fact I don't mind them at all. They induce a nostalgia. I can live in the past: Kate Jackson's bright smile, Starsky's fast car... expectant future dreams.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2671 “The climate’s suggestions”
ㅁ I looked out and saw a white brightness. The moon was there among the trees. It had stolen the darkness. The leaves were black and white. Frosted purple air lapped at the bark, traced branches... winter hints.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2670 “Reunion”
ㅁ You can not see them for forty years, but a true friend remains a friend. You meet again, exchange looks, and there's understanding. This happened today, it sounds corny. It's human, makes me glad.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2668 “The gray”
ㅁ The map failed to appear as it should. An expectant grayness, instead, filled up the browser's window. Rebooting the server did not fix a thing. Perhaps the world was broken: "Planet closed."
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2667 “In conversation with the psychologist”
ㅁ His father had died of grumpiness - declared categorically. Somehow that doesn't connect to his current approach. No introspection - or just hidden. Self, unseen unknown, gone.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2666 “He lost his tiny plastic hat”
ㅁ "Thief!" His hat had detached, leaving his head exposed as he ran: the lego guy's peg head was apparently too bright for the man to evade police. Well, that's how my grandson explained it.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2665 “The hammer and the nail”
ㅁ I dreamed my own self-trepanation, which is a quite strange thing to dream. So, where do these thoughts come from? What suggested a nail and a small hammer? It was nothing that I'd seen. Random stuff.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2664 “The night’s events”
ㅁ I heard the slow drizzle on the roof. But then I went outside, and saw there were many stars instead. Somehow the clouds had fled, during that short time. The sky's changes disregard even night.
– a nonnet.
#Poetry #nonnet
Caveat: Poem #2663 “Astrology”
ㅁ Getting up before dawn, I saw stars. I failed to notice their movement; rather, they were fixed and still. Some tree branches imposed, drawing their stark lines. A single star blinked, wavered: a leaf swung.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2662 “Leaving”
ㅁ There were leaves racing along the road, flung around by the passing cars. They seemed to be sentient. Which is to say, panicked, suffering, fearful, fleeing traffic, jumping down ditchward, hurt.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2661 “A circle”
ㅁ Apple pie was a necessity. So Juli rolled out some pie crust, pressed it into the pie plate. She has pre-made filling from their apple trees. The top added, oven hot, it baked... done!
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2660 “The Fall”
ㅁ The years transformed into confusion, and that, in turn, turned to anger. The missing information rendered malevolent in its mere absence, floated like leaves lost by trees - just like Fall.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2659 “Probably just a metaphor”
ㅁ In my dreams, a billionaire's small child capriciously commanded me to perform some pointless tasks. I resisted, angry. But the games went on. World aflame, she... revealed her robot face.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2658 “Survival narrative”
ㅁ The stories accumulate like snow, forming drifts among the neurons. The underlying spaces become blurred and smoothed out. The stories remain. You can study their patterns and find self.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2657 “PaaS”
ㅁ "Precipitation as a service." It would be unprecedented, as a business model. You could get just as much as you had paid for; the obstacle: those stubborn flighty clouds.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2656 “How things ended up”
ㅁ The rain came in gusts, gales, attacking trees. They bent, weary and wary but strong. The atmosphere was like mad birds. It drew secret glyphs of air. Unreadable... we wept. Without remedy. Disconsolate. We lay down. On moss. Still.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2571 “Fish worship”
ㅁ fish create obsessions and burning needs among visitors to this remote island in southeastern Alaska and it's all people talk about when socializing around the town
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2570 “To get where you’re going”
ㅁ A nonnet starts from some position and unfolds itself with slow steps - a teleological, but not quite knowable - journey down a path to simple ends, with only lonely words.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2565 “Routines of interaction”
ㅁ Arthur has trouble asking for help. Instead, he positions himself nearby, and cusses loudly. If I ask him not to, he'll apologize, but then forget. This routine is what works.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2561 “Recollection of a visit to my mother’s house”
ㅁ I remembered that long drive I made, ... think it was in two-thousand three. It just popped into my mind. From Sydney up to Cairns, I drove through the night, ate Hungry Jacks, passed motels: long roads... drove.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2560 “The onset of some kind of dementia”
ㅁ Brain: broken. Procedures fail to proceed. Steps can't be taken. Narratives get flattened. Short-term memory wobbles, events get misplaced, set aside, What's left is an eternal present.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2559 “Strange trip”
ㅁ Stuck on a starship bound for Seoul, I realized I was in a dream; the ship was crowded with fools, with holds full of cargo; a woman asked me, could I give her some money? I said no.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2542 “Descent”
ㅁ The long day dissolved gradually, melting itself into drizzle: just very low clouds, really, grasping at the damp earth. The trees were patient. The slugs came out. Birds still sang. The stones slept.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2535 “A muddle”
ㅁ dreamed my brain was broken from overuse tried using pillows and some stacks of old books held my head a certain way to replicate the same function but alas everything was vague
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2534 “The big city, population 4”
ㅁ Since the fire in 19, we've been here without any neighbors: just birds. Now people inhabited the next lot to the east. They talk and do things, make lots of noise; suddenly: city life.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2528 “Arboriculture”
ㅁ Some trees suddenly give up and die. The saplings put out lots of leaves, all yearning and glowing green. And then something happens, the leaves start drooping, and shrivel up. Other trees progress fine.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2516 “Controversial statement”
ㅁ Ghosts pretend that the world is not only made up of others who are also ghostly. They obsess over perceived living creatures with jealousy, denying their shared ontology.
– a reverse nonnet.