wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com
Word Mob Poetry: January 2014
http://wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com/2014_01_01_archive.html
Welcome to my poetry page. Thursday, January 30, 2014. All of their states. Wednesday, January 29, 2014. The mightiest of woodlands. Rise slowly by the grace. Of lesser lauded buffers. Who by nature deflect. Those mad whirligigs of thorns. Who thrilling at the margins. Extort force from force. To thrum and howl. Like minstrels during battle. These turbines of the wayside. And heroes of the thicket. This quickset grown of. Berry, slip and cutting. Fierce and full of fettle. Is the middle ground. That ego ...
wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com
Word Mob Poetry: April 2014
http://wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com/2014_04_01_archive.html
Welcome to my poetry page. Thursday, April 24, 2014. Where amber marries red. As smudge and char. Their ort children rise. Upward through the flue. To mask the moon. The scent of space. That like and likening. Of gray body ascension. Which bears all soot to wind. As piceous carbon undulates. Like dense black lace buoyant. Above the chinks in windows. Where vital breath transpires. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). You can also find me at:. Lucy Meskill is an artist and writer. Happy to be, happy to be here.
wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com
Word Mob Poetry: January 2015
http://wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com/2015_01_01_archive.html
Welcome to my poetry page. Monday, January 26, 2015. For pigs languishing in crates. I push the world for you. For cows who roil in filth. I push the world for you. For ducks who are force-fed. I push the world for you. For sharks who are de-finned. I push the world for you. For dogs forced to fight in pits. I push the world for you. I push the world for you. For goats shoved out of towers. I push the world for you. For chickens ground to death. I push the world for you. For bulls who are made to fight.
wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com
Word Mob Poetry: September 2014
http://wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com/2014_09_01_archive.html
Welcome to my poetry page. Tuesday, September 23, 2014. Gratitude for the profusion. Of momentary necessary fragments,. Whose small composites find strength in union. To take lazy possession of the soil. Wafted or washed, dropped or flung. As the quickening of ovules,. Downward with heavy rains. From the overhanging bank, flood. The only inducement offered. From the dissolving rain is respite,. For these less than weary travelers,. In the sweet, red-scented and. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).
wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com
Word Mob Poetry: June 2014
http://wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com/2014_06_01_archive.html
Welcome to my poetry page. Friday, June 13, 2014. The meat was tough. The table was dirty. The server was hard. The cook was angry. The roadway was packed. The people were rushed. The day was too long. The night was too short. And somewhere a lamb bleats. A music as soft as silk for its mother. Sensing the inevitable wave. Where he was landing. As one leg flew off. In the bright yellow beak of a starling. Photo credit: Des Cannon. Tuesday, June 3, 2014. The moon is weaning fireflies.
mygreeniota.blogspot.com
my green iota...: February 2009
http://mygreeniota.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html
Thursday, February 26, 2009. Turning like a key. Tumbling in the lock, click/swing. Green spring rushes thru. Posted by Lucy Meskill. Wednesday, February 25, 2009. Posted by Lucy Meskill. Make art not garbage. How lightly can you walk? Who needs all this stuff? Where does it all go to die? Unfortunately now I know. Posted by Lucy Meskill. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Lucy Meskill is an artist and writer. Happy to be, happy to be here. View my complete profile. You can also find me here. The art of memory.
wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com
Word Mob Poetry: that great tribe
http://wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com/2014/09/that-great-tribe.html
Welcome to my poetry page. Tuesday, September 23, 2014. Gratitude for the profusion. Of momentary necessary fragments,. Whose small composites find strength in union. To take lazy possession of the soil. Wafted or washed, dropped or flung. As the quickening of ovules,. Downward with heavy rains. From the overhanging bank, flood. The only inducement offered. From the dissolving rain is respite,. For these less than weary travelers,. In the sweet, red-scented and. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com
Word Mob Poetry: pilots...
http://wordmobpoetry.blogspot.com/2015/07/pilots.html
Welcome to my poetry page. Friday, July 3, 2015. The bee told me. Just where to stand. To see the universe. The envelope told me. Just where to read. To hear the mountain. The leaf told me. Just how to turn. The pebble told me. Just how to splash. To glide into the. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). You can also find me at:. Lucy Meskill is an artist and writer. Happy to be, happy to be here. View my complete profile.
