Category Archives: Poetry

Rumination

Posted on January 17, 2013 by sputterpub

Hum thunder Shine lightning and rain on my head Saliva is butter and forage is bread No matter the weather I chew and digest No question I answer I couldn’t care less

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Tantrum

Posted on January 14, 2013 by sputterpub

“I hate your dad,” my lover said to me while pacing back and forth across our room, her body tense with vehemence, her face forsaking beauty for outrageous rage. “He damaged you – conditioned you to be a wordless friend … Continue reading →

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Queries

Posted on January 11, 2013 by sputterpub

What mean we when we say American? Exactly what’s included and what’s not when we refer to us and who we’ve been, and what is meant when we say melting pot? Do candlemakers use them for their craft? Or is … Continue reading →

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Imagine

Posted on January 7, 2013 by sputterpub

Imagine charming human of my dreams: a prince of thieves of anger who appears and takes my rage because he knows what seems a storm is sterling hurt and golden tears. Imagine someone smart enough to know that being well … Continue reading →

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Too Good to Be True

Posted on January 4, 2013 by sputterpub

Once upon a time a story made by some creative poet literal, explained so cleverly it didn’t fade; it fit so well it seemed to say it all. And so the story passed from mouth to ear until another maker … Continue reading →

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Borrowed

Posted on December 31, 2012 by sputterpub

Just give an inch and she will take a yard. Isn’t that a line they used for all of us before we got our fancies jarred? Today in mid-life dullness I recall the phrase and feel it twist about on … Continue reading →

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Talk

Posted on December 28, 2012 by sputterpub

I said a simple sentence yesterday and you appeared to hear – you gave okay as if you understood my point of view and took my words and feeling to be true. But I am sadly certain in my guess … Continue reading →

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Diorama

Posted on December 24, 2012 by sputterpub

Inside the TV set, behind the screen of the computer, through the oblong glass the windshield is, its surface daily-clean, through scaffolds on electrons fueled or gas, there moves a little picture of the world with finite boundaries and pleasant … Continue reading →

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Bath Sonnet

Posted on December 21, 2012 by sputterpub

The silver sound of water when it falls against itself at once invigorates as it consoles, and drops like little balls of light splash upward as it penetrates the depth already formed within the bath. It seems the silver sinks … Continue reading →

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Reading

Posted on December 17, 2012 by sputterpub

Imbedded in a paragraph I read, the author made a character express conceit about the limits women dread, and role reversals in the game of chess. So women even now and surely then were victims of constraint and guarded range, … Continue reading →

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