Friday, 31 July 2009

- Flowers -

The preacher on the corner, his hands
turned up like a crocus from cold earth.


Amy Blakemore

Thursday, 30 July 2009

lanky dogwoods dig their root-paws
into fresh dirt / panting leaves lap up the rain


Angie Werren
woman, ask the question

Wednesday, 29 July 2009

midday heat
beads of sweat sparkle
above the living statue’s lip


Lynne Rees
an open field

Tuesday, 28 July 2009

The white gladiolus
opens in the summer sun,
a radiant bride.


Michelle McGrane
peony moon

Monday, 27 July 2009

surfing the net
sitting on the edge of the abyss
while your eyes fall in


Gary Wilson
Writing Dramatica

Sunday, 26 July 2009

Grave Stone

Words weather. Lichen patches
blur the stone-cutter’s art,
and no poet’s work survives
the softening of time.


Colin Will
Sunny Dunny

Saturday, 25 July 2009

black bird
one winged
by the mausoleum
the only thing to do


Regina C. Green
The Red Bird Chronicles

Friday, 24 July 2009

baba ganoush, falafel, tabouleh:
names mouth-watering as flavors


Emily Miner

Thursday, 23 July 2009

sitting in the ginko room
surrounded by books
harvesting words


Tony Renner

Wednesday, 22 July 2009


evening gloom

the sofa has nightmares
and the kitchen chairs
dream of escape


Jeff Klooger

Tuesday, 21 July 2009

I am drunk in a strange city. Somehow,
I walk on bumpy old streets
without stumbling. They're not cobblestones,
you say, they're clouds.


Carolee Sherwood
Carolee Sherwood

Monday, 20 July 2009

For Tim H.

sunlight through beech trees
the jay is my only friend
till he laughs and leaves


Geoff Sawers

Sunday, 19 July 2009

I stop looking up
words I don't know.
You stop sympathizing
with the televised apologies
of disgraced celebrities.
The small white dog
we named for John Dewey
sleeps between us.


Howie Good
Apocalypse Mambo

Saturday, 18 July 2009

on the rock
blue graffiti
-- he loves her


Dianne Borsenik

Friday, 17 July 2009

the sky clings to its mystery like erased pencil on a page


Emma Kehayas

Thursday, 16 July 2009

Wednesday, 15 July 2009

gray rushes in ready to rumble

pushing open sky into a corner...

this rain is big and loud


Angie Werren
the space between words

Tuesday, 14 July 2009

The way Tuesday began

Tongues of steam curl from my mostly-drunk tea. Outside a blackbird hops, yellow flowers exalt.


Fiona Robyn
a small stone
(oops - no stone was set up today - I had to use one of mine to plug the gap! Normal programming will return tomorrow...)

Monday, 13 July 2009

Dark eyes warm a knowing smile across the breakfast table.


Will Collum

Sunday, 12 July 2009

the rain began
like a new driver,
easy, easy,
lots of gas!


Anna Torborg
twelve 22

Saturday, 11 July 2009

the glow of tungsten
peeking through
dense white birch


Isabela Oliveira

Friday, 10 July 2009

yesterday's coffee broods,
grown dark and bitter, forgetting
cool water and sun's caress


B. T. Forsythe
Mortality Measured in Metaphor

Thursday, 9 July 2009

The Aphid

The aphid lands on my hand with a tiny plop,
a miniscule green body I can barely see.
The wings are little slices of lace liked by light.


Matthew Friday
Matthew Friday

Wednesday, 8 July 2009

books shelved, like small trees
wait patiently, eternally


Nicole Krueger
Books and Bards

Tuesday, 7 July 2009

The Way

bells echo
me hoping for a swing
my head at the gate,
still open.


Tim Nees
Tim Nees

Sunday, 5 July 2009

Just Sitting

and at the centre point of my full field of view,
wedge necked and head down:
Just Eating Grass.


Greg Clare
The Breakneck Walks

Saturday, 4 July 2009

The act of waiting elongates everything. Even the toad songs are stretched and somber.


Alice Pettway
Curiouser and Curiouser

Friday, 3 July 2009

Thursday, 2 July 2009

no need to ask
if he's in a relationship
the toilet rim hairs


Matt Morden
Morden Haiku

Wednesday, 1 July 2009

Walk away; behind you saws grind maple to dust, open bluing sky.


Deb Scott
Stoney Moss