Category: ai art
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Song for Her Majesty the Ex
We were legendary, dear, doubt it never King and queen of fourteen-liners and verse Time moves on, yet in the reflection of that moment Printed in books with our names . . . we were great How was it we lost admiration for each other? Competition? No. Complication. Life Got in our way of living.…
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But is it a Poem?
Do they call it a poem? It’s a poem. Does it look like a poem? It’s a poem. Read it. Relish it. Savor it in your mouth Savor it in your ear and in your heart. Does it feel like something real? More than Real? Does it drug you with its puissance? If you cried…
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Sax Sells: Challenge Poem #72
Sax in Every Room not enough has been writtenwill ever be written – can wordseven approximate a just figurefor the saxophone? smoothas no other measure of smoothdefinitive of cool in musicsacross the spectrum: blues, jazz, rockclassic, fusion, ska, etc, and futureperhaps we should includea full golden album of saxophoneon the next exploration droneshot into forever,…
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Challenge Poem #57
what ode can I write of a Monday morningpredawn? seven hours until the guestsarrive, and so much is left undone. wehave prepared this and that – her vacancyhaunting here and there – the gifts are all wrappedand the tree proclaims our celebration: happy birthday, dear saviour, though the datemay be pagan inaccurate, Thy graceshall see…
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Challenge Poem #54
poetry, says the professor, is always a conversationalwaysas with most conversations, it is oftenand predominantlyone-sided what you must decide, as a poet – shouldyou decide to join the honored, infamous ranks –is how much and what end of the conversationyou write and in what or whose voice . . .and with whom is the conversation?the…
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Challenge Poem #53
I get itchyif I go too longwithoutwritingas though . . .the world can’t revolvesans wobbleuntil I spill wordsinto lines . . . no matterhow unbalancedor unartisticperhaps this is someancestral ritualmy dna demandsperhapsit is madnessor addiction dm pitchford 12/24/23
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challenge poem #20
No harbor for delusions,I have only a fly-by-night operationwhere all such things pass through dmpitchford 12/10/23
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Poem 16
Words: something from nothingDan calls this Cognitive Alchemythis combination of disparate threadsinto articulations of verse such miracle of nature, thissystem of symbols from gray matterto black on white – ink on pagepage to book – book to library poets are alchemistscreating gold in crucibles of thoughtmining the heart of self and societyfor lead and tin…
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Poem 15
Uphill from here, she says. Unintimidated by aught,I climb Parnassus though I stumble betimesthough stones bruise my bonesand storms wash me cold and dampdown weathered heightsundaunted I stride
Fringemonkey Scribbles 