For reasons I don't want to get into right now, I couldn't' host Stone Soup last night. You might think I would welcome less work, but in fact I have come to rely on the habit for my mental health in these times, including my weekly writing of the Stone Soup Croutons poem.
I tried this once just before we started the online readings, and it worked out well. It's late notice, but I want to do it anyway. I'll repeat what I wrote before.
Anyone who has been to Stone Soup or is a member of the Facebook group online is welcome to take part. In the comments section of this post, write a word, a sentence, a phrase, even an excerpt of a recent poem (I would hate to have you post an entire poem, which can count as publication).
Submit what you want before tonight at midnight I will then take as many entries as I can (shooting for all of them) and create a Stone Soup Croutons poem by this Friday.
If you follow Stone Soup online but have never been to an event, here's your chance to be a part of my weekly ritual.
All I ask is that you leave your name so I can give you proper thanks the way I do to everyone on our regular open mic.
I offer no incentives other than a poem by tomorrow. This is a totally selfish request, and I would appreciate your participation.
7 comments:
a marathon of ellipses, running through water,
(—>) treading through time,
(—>) trends, God’s social media posts. /
trends of God’s social media.
When surgical masks are fashion accessories...
for a lifetime of work a meager social security check EBT benefits
& a cramped one-bedroom apartment with her tabby Jenny
a cracked mirror meant 7 more years of bad luck
& further decline in her reflection
Sorry Chad, I didn't cut and paste correctly the first time.
for a lifetime of work a meager social security check EBT benefits
& a cramped one-bedroom apartment with her tabby Jenny
a cracked mirror meant 7 more years of bad luck
& further decline in her reflection
she lived in quarantine before it became mandatory
held on to her past in boxes shopping bags & 45s
Hey Chad, here goes:
The howling wind
sideways blowing snow
rain and salt air.
I thought about you then.
Tzynya
iammeremix
I Am The Reflection of a Better Me
I can't be you
I can't be deceit
I can't be a liar
I am imperfect
But I am perfect
In many different ways possible
My name is Black Byrd
But don't get it Twisted
I Am Izzy first
One who don't care what your thoughts are of her
She is free
She is Me.
#BlackByrd ��
Behind a neighbor’s yard
its banks were jammed with skunk cabbage.
I had never before lived near
skunk cabbage.
Spring came, I walked back and forth
gazing at it, neither skunk nor cabbage.
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