Monthly Archives: March 2013

Already The Stars

Already The Stars Already the stars have sliced away a quarter of the late-rising moon; April starts at midnight— another month without you.

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The Yellow-Tinged Moon

The Yellow-Tinged Moon The yellow-tinged moon ignores me tonight, looks down at her own silent face in dark water—and I’ve nothing to say to her either.

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When Young, Drenched In Laughter (a double tanka)

When Young, Drenched In Laughter (a double tanka)* We both know the night and how its eversharp stars hide back of the moon— when young, drenched in laughter and sweat, we blunted them nightly; but now, like sailors cold between … Continue reading

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The Last Long Low Notes (Vivaldi’s Spring on Accordions)

Vivaldi’s Spring on Accordions The Last Long Low Notes At the end of this stretched-out accordion March squeezing the last long low notes from winter, I wait for the sparrows to polka.

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Good Night, Carlo (poems from old notebooks, November 2003)

Carlo Spinazzola – Slow Burner Hearing yesterday evening of the too-damn early death of Jay Smith, whom I barely knew but had seen play with his band Rock Ranger, took me right back to the side-swiped feeling I had after … Continue reading

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Only The Sky Full Of Stars

The full moon up there— when it leaves we all notice the sky full of stars. But when you are gone I see only your face in the night.

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In the Night Press

I see the black looks crows give March skies, how they glance askance at grey clouds. They’re cold too—but spend their nights pressing against warm bodies.

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The First Wide Bursts of Green (tanka and process)

Wrote another spring tanka this afternoon. In Notepad this time—it’s usually there or in the Twitter compose box that I write them these days, for a number of reasons but mostly for feel and convenience—and saved all the various drafts … Continue reading

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after The March winds are cold by Andrew Griffin

after The March winds are cold by Andrew Griffin What spring will reveal when she tears off winter’s stained and tattered white dress— first her bare shoulders, then all her bright, intricate tattoos.

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Nearly Nineteen Years Later (a three words a day poem)

From this great little exercise at three words a day. Nearly Nineteen Years Later Nearly nineteen years later I cannot forget how the moment of delivery changed from reluctance to headlong plunge. You arrived so quickly in that instant it was … Continue reading

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I Have Made A Ritual (a three words a day poem)

Just wrote this one while struggling to keep my eyes open long enough to do so. From this great little exercise at three words a day blog, the author of which, yi-ching lin, is writing some very fine poems. But I … Continue reading

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Originally posted on tankawanka:
John Mackenzie spins a noir tale of being in the wrong place at the wrong time one too many times for Andrew Grimes Griffin’s own good. Tp read the complete text, click here, right click and…

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Skies Torn By Steeples

This photo by Beth Arsenault appeared in my Facebook friend feed today and immediately made me write this tanka. Skies Torn By Steeples In March the elms lift empty limbs up to pale blue skies torn by steeples into white, … Continue reading

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Originally posted on tankawanka:
Vortexted (pronounced: /ˈvɔrtɛkstɛd/) adjective — feeling overwhelmed by a storm of text messages from needy, demanding, or insane people about a particular person, occurrence, or event, past, future, or purely imaginary. Usage: I was vortexted by George…

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Long After Midnight

Long After Midnight Long after midnight, a crow calls from far away in slow-falling snow. Tonight I’ve heard no other voice—now my pillow grows cold.

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The Three-Quarter Moon of March

Writing and posting this from work tonight, so no image. The Three-Quarter Moon of March The three-quarter moon of March is low and heavy in the bare tree limbs tonight—as our sentences, unfinished, hang between us.

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March Crows Pace

Late March evening— blue skies and paths worn where crows pace the shed’s roof edge above heavy snow—summer remains less distant than you.

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Hallelujah (if Leonard Cohen had facebook) (poems from old notebooks, July 2010)

And then there was the day I started wondering, “what if Leonard Cohen had had Facebook in 1983?” Hallelujah (if Leonard Cohen had facebook) I think about you now and then while waiting for the world to end the trees … Continue reading

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This Broken Love Song (poems from old notebooks, 2001?-2013)

I’ve been picking at this one  off and on for a long time. Had a spell a few years ago where I performed it now and then with a local band. That was fun. I’ll likely leave it alone now. … Continue reading

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Originally posted on tankawanka:
A Groom to the Salt (A Deathday song for Andrew) Words and Music by Michael Leon Backing Vocals by Emma Tibaldo The sun’s slanting rays cut a path through the waves as the darkness crept over…

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