http://slow.writerscafe.org/backporchmoon The original writings of author arbitrary jane en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775985551 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15   You died on a Tuesday.                        Well �" not yet.In the future you died on a Tuesday. I sat beside you. I won’t tell youhow it happened.In the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/1270708/ I have loved you. I have loved you with words.I have thrown them at you in fistfulsfrom the center of my terrible solitude. I have flung them over you in buckets - as water -meant to salve your burning. But they were buckets full of only fire -you the ocean.&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/946025/ Troubled one - forcelessin the blank and raw of vacant days -this do I offer,for so, indeed I know:That joy is dark;and true rejoicing happensin the black, and chokeof your own coffin -six feet of earth and gravelbetween you and all that is Right.It is the ancient granite of your spirit's spine,the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/909095/ this was mostly just an exercise in noticing. in vision. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/897871/ I was the three wives of Abraham Gonzo. Historically, it’strue, he only had the one wife - me - but I was all three wives just the same.I was his first wife, the one he met in mango groves on nights when the moonwas silent and the stars made the sky a palace of restless burning. He stole.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/830860/ this is an old poem, that i've been meaning to re-work for a LONG time... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/792685/ for kerry's thursday challenge #3... except i missed the deadline... sorry. also... i can not seem to shake 'mundane poetry disorder'... im starting to worry. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/775907/ ive been stuck for a while... this is crappy poetry, but maybe if i get it out of the way something better will come. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/769879/ this is the one that was actually supposed to be for the beat challenge... but i couldnt get it to cooperate. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/746369/ For Kerry's Sunday Challenge #2. -- kundera. based on a significant scene from the book Unbearable Lightness of Being, and on the ideas found in the quote below the poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/740913/ ive been working on this one forever... it lacks... power http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/727576/ happy mother's day, WC http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/724360/ i set out to write a narrative poem... then i got mugged by this. sorry about the length. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/720800/ How like bats we are.Blind, For all the good our eyes do us, Etching our crazy and Erratic pathsThrough the dusk and liquid sky,With nothing to guide us, Save the fickle reflections of sound.We let loose our pale, hesitant songsOn the filtering airAnd as they .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/716062/ this is not new. but to balance out all the moon-y things, and because it's a little silly, and i'm so inclined... read gently. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/716059/ yeah yeah, i have a thing for the moon. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/714160/ That the moonover thousands of miles,through matrix of sky and space and time,would creep her inexorable wayaround the planet;to land in a puddle,in a broken squareon my laundry room floor;is incomprehensible.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/711982/ to my very new dear friend, and for rilke. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/711022/ Fireflies, of a summer’s dusk-Somehow, both creeping insect, and star-Have always reminded me Of running with sparklers On the Fourth of July.There is the same brief light,Hovering between earth and heaven;The same inscrutable danceAnd ephemeral trails of light,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/709571/ All of this,All these pagesAnd wordsAnd endless collage of phrase,Poorly punctuated;Is nothing but a small attemptTo relieve my (swollen) heart.An inky sluiceway,A controlled, grammatical burn.This body it aches, at times,Is bruised As if its walls were st.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/709131/ The moon, So bright today in the afternoon azure,Shining in something like gorgeous intent.A moon is a moon, And such a thing.And you?What is this one life in you? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/708978/ messing around a little with sprung rhythm, and making gerald manley hopkins do some of those famous grave cartwheels. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/708919/ this never really had a place. so i broke up the paragraphs and called it a poem. maybe i should sleep more. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/707808/ It is the autumnnow,of sepia woodsand lakes likeglassand skies of coldbluethrust upon byaspen fire and maple.Fragrant woodstovesa melancholydrear, the year castinglong shadowsof sacredexpiration.And it is myautumn,mellowed andstill, and quietlyburning... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/707471/ I wrote this as a small response to the devastation in Japan. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/backporchmoon/707217/