slick cement steps rise from broken slabs slathered in stuck gum, garbage, and shit. a reek of piss from a stained corner, the edges are always dirty so it’s best to look up, but watch where you step.
I’ve been prepping for my upcoming Poetry Reading at the Utah Arts Festival. I’m not looking forward to leaving SF for a weekend but I know it’ll be a good change of pace to get out for a bit. While I prep, I’ve been taking long walks, trying out coffee shops in downtown SF, and reading more.
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glowing clouds wander, whisping across a landscape riddled with dead trees. a hollow howl from a coyote, a sand twister, a skeleton bleached clean by the sun. two black holes peering into the endless expanse. a belt buckle shines among the clutter.
Poetry Practice: Choose a word and write a poem. Ideally this practice works best when you pick a random word every day and push yourself to write a poem.
Rolling thunderous clouds smother the tops of trees,
a brush of wind, a lingering electricity hovering in the
air. A crack, snap, as a wiry white finger touches earth.
A glittering of water, drops plunk, plop, tap tap tap
This past month has been something else. I haven’t been posting as much as I process what’s going on in the world and my personal life. Big changes are ahead even though the past year is still revolving in the back of my mind. The U.S. is opening up, some people are vaccinated, and the Israel–Palestine crisis is reverberating throughout the world. It feels like so many are scrambling to return to life pre-pandemic but the world is not the same and there is no going back. What happens to those of us stuck in the past? Stuck in our political ideologies? What happens as we split in two, one focused on the past and the other focused on the future? These are questions that keep revolving in my mind as I prepare to move out of state, fully-vaccinated, ready to handle whatever comes my way. I feel like a sponge that is still soaking up everything that’s happened; can I decompress, process, and clarify the various thoughts that swarm inside my brain? What’s next? My upcomingPoetry Reading at the Utah Arts Festival in August. See my About page for more details.
Poetry Practice: create a list of words with a theme, pick a word of the day and write an impromptu poem. This practice is used to push the boundaries of a poem.
For today, I have chosen “biting”.
Have a word suggestion? Leave a comment below.
blustery skies swirl shaded clouds closer and closer to a steely city. biting the skin, a winter wind wraps around a chilled frame. dizzying steps toward home, a shiver slides down the spine.
Dreary eyes scan a sunless airspace. Gray clouds suffocate skyscrapers. A drizzle of rain slicks cement, steel, and glass. Cityscape comprised of pulverized dreams.
This practice is used to push the boundaries of a poem. Have a word suggestion? Leave a comment below.
