I’m very pleased to share that Literary Revelations Press has accepted five of my haiku for publication in their new anthology, Haiku for Soulmates, edited by Gabriela Marie Milton. A lovely surprise, and a moment worth celebrating.
Featured Image Above:From the far edge of light, a voice rises — calling across distance, across darkness, urging the soul to fly toward the light.
Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem,“Arise With My Light,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below. >> Arise With My Light – Coffee House Writers
As the weekend’s protest thread continues, this poem looks at what we count — and what we choose not to.
VJ’s article on holding to a deeper “why” nudged me toward this poem — a poignant protest shaped by questions of time, land, and what we risk by looking away. Her story is below—the spark behind this poem. >> Having a Why – One Woman’s Quest
Also, over at Weekly Prompts, the Weekend Challenge is the word Invasive. To visit their fabulous site, please click >> Here
Handless Watchbands, or Who’s Counting
How many grains of sand are left in the ancient hourglass? Why are the Holy grasslands a desert full of misguided missiles and handless watch bands?
How many missiles do the leaders in Versailles have to count before the amount is called genocide?
For what we cannot look away from, let the song bear witness.
In keeping with this week’s ‘Moon’ theme, today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in January 2021) is drawn from my third book, Until Eyes Hear Sound. It appears in Chapter 8: Poetry in Slow Motion, and if you need to have a chat with me, “I am up here floating on the moon.”
Floating On The Moon
I am not always wrong And at times, I may have been right Behind my mask, I smile And at times, I grimace
Numbness has entered my bones Clumsiness guides my pen Awkwardness precedes my stride Uneasiness resonates in my voice
I am not able to walk on water And at times, I have sunk like a stone I live within my soul’s cocoon And at times, I am floating on the moon
On this quiet Easter morning, I’m sharing a poem shaped from small conversations and long-held echoes — a few stones rolled aside to let a little light through.
This poem grew from poetic anecdotes I first shared as comments on fellow bloggers’ posts. In stanza order, they are:
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 