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    • tonyv

      Registration -- to join PMO   03/14/2017

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      IMPORTANT: re Logging In to PMO ***Attention Members***   03/15/2017

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  • Posts

    • The bowl of cawl warming your chat, but through the glass Castell Harlech sits squat and broods. The stone fed fat on local blood must grip the land - for here, both you and I, say 'diolch'.
    • When asked how long she'd pricked her 'raggy' rugs;
      Grandmother smiled and said: “Ooh! Donkey's years!”
      Charred crocodiles of logs spat from the hearth:
      Dragons and snakes, flickered on parchment walls.
      And life was filled with colour, warmth and light
      That raised a chuckle when she told a tale..
      The Fat Mayor  and his Cock-a-doodle Hat:
      Squashed!!  By his 'put upon' pet elephant.
      Comeuppance from the mightily oppressed:
      Contained within her mesmerising  yarn.. My morning percolator's bean-fed wraiths,
      Disperse in fragrant wisps of minutiae:
      That forty days of rain may come again.
      That destruction and creation, are the left
      And right hand of some ancient cosmic force.
      And I--  who store smidgens of many things
      Which took a lifetime in the gathering;
      Confess, none of them help me to explain
      Want and Starvation to a nascent  child,
      Whose thoughts are owned by all things digital.
    • Very well composed, Barry. I've read it numerous times, and it's addictive. Each time I want to read it again. I always like when onomatopoeia is mentioned in a poem. It never gets old. The two verse set-up is perfect with the stanza break coming just at the right time when reading out loud (i.e. for taking a breath) and also for thought. There's nothing superfluous. Some of my favorite excerpts are ... the male / grips the gift of a fish to his mate and the reference to "the intimacy of otters." Also, The night is arguing with itself and the line break after "snap" are especially to my liking, snap being a word that for me invokes the expression "cold snap," yet in this case it drops to "of thunder" in the next line, followed with "perhaps." Nice work. Tony
    • Brief winter sun of the flashing king streaking waters that are waiting for wings. Ears are tricked by the wind's onomatopeia, kingfisher's colors are streaked across the moon's shining spear. Snow arrives winter is cutting its hair. I wonder if the stream leaves white footprints after walking in a dream to catch the moons blade wearing a tear.   There are blue glints, the kingfisher's courtship, the male grips the gift of a fish to his mate. The intimacy of otters as they stitch sharing the chalk's white thread, the needle's eye widens as days lengthen. Somewhere in chalk, there is a cache of each fish taken and every cloud that passes.The night is arguing with itself, the snap of thunder, bolts of lightning are its tears perhaps. Summer clouds are slippers for angels.
    • Haiku Journal 2017 jvg  #1

      faded red coat brushes
      my palm as she inches down to
      bed by the fire