election night–
some cars honk as they pass
the tea is bitter
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election night–
some cars honk as they pass
the tea is bitter
Domenic Garisto/havau22.com / IF YOU CAN'T BE THE POET, BE THE POEM (David Carradine) LIFE IS NOT A REHERSAL,SO LIVE IT.
Flash fiction tales of humor, horror and whimsy
One Poet's Writing Practice
My thousand lines..
Where Legends Live in Words. A Digital Art & Poetry Wordpress By Linda J. Wolff
..... Just ....... Haiku .....
Non-factional opinion, fiction, poetry and occasional humour
民族音楽学者: Ethnomusicologist/Composer
Writing prompts! Mining your brain for creative ideas since 2016 . . .
Haiku, Tanka, Formal and Free Verse
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A Journal of English Senryu
An eclectic mixture of personal essays, stuff about writing, stuff about books and far out philosophy from an old baggage in a book-tower.
Strength in Mind, Body, and Spirit.
Painting with words
until we are read all over
left my comment in “search” box…hope it hurteth not. Not to fret Bruce: that hair would embitter bitter/ And, besides, my side gets to spend time on the glass slide under the microscope for a change. Fie on cars going geese in the night!
embitter butter. wish comment/reply had an edit button. I edit better (sometimes) than I rite!
Just as long we don’t wind up speaking Russian or have to wear turbans
For Shame! You gotta get more global, buddy. Personally I welcome a few new words this day past your 241st “birthday.” For an old man you sure are word-spry! Be well. I worry more about what happens when the so-called professional anarchists in Portland piss police off enough to earn some head-n-shoulders wood and thus encourage our educated youth to rally stronger. ‘Stead, why not go live a pristine life, get a job in government or NGO service and begin the long arduous climb to the lofts of power so you can then dictate to people your own age now but from a further remove? But that’s just my 20/20 hindmost sight (after I wipe and flush of course).