Category Archives: Cinquain

Theology

These gods you chase into the gaps? Nothing. Nothing between atoms. Nothing under the bed.

Posted in Astrophysics, Atheism, Cinquain, Cosmology, Delusional thinking, Desperation, Epistemology, Evolutionary Psychology, Fanaticism, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Micropoetry, New poems, Physics, Poem tweets, Poetry, Religion, Science, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Cinquain in Late March

Cattails rattle, icy in the marsh; snow muffles the fields—and no geese call yet, wild, joyful

Posted in Cattails, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Marsh, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Wild Geese, Wild Geese in Spring | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Behind the Dance of Moon

Maybe tonight you will hear how the stars whisper behind the dance of moon tangling seaweed

Posted in Astrophysics, Cinquain, Cosmology, Gravity, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Science, Summer, The Moon, Tide, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Voyeur Moon

Flat, round, the April moon presses into the sky— cold, white nose against dark glass in the night

Posted in Art is lies, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, The Moon, The Sky | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Two Versions of a Cinquain for the First Day of Spring

1 Warm, wet, the spring wind gets in everywhere—stirring curtains, tugging and loosening clothing 2 Stirring curtains, tugging and loosening clothing, the spring wind gets in everywhere, warm, wet

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Chinese poetry, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poetry, Spring, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

d’Etre, Et Cetera (against a sea of troubles)

High tide has just turned, but already gulls descend— squall over prime spots on mudflats to be

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cinquain, Gulls, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Sea | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Sometimes, Eating Sushi

Sometimes eating sushi the soy sauce splashes, foams, and is these warm, shallow South Shore waters stirred dark and fertile by wind, waves, rhythmic tides— I become the ungainly blue heron wading at the sea’s edge in the fading evening … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Blue Heron, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Sea | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Today a Ruckus

Today the raucous crows roil the sky in constant autumn chase of one another— they wheel and soar, fold wings to fall together—as I fall towards your lips, tongue; a ruckus inside

Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Cinquain, Crows, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

September Hides (Tongue in Cheek, so to Speak)

Of course, the skies cleared last night and made a liar out of me. September Hides (Tongue in Cheek, so to Speak) It tends warm and often wet, but this September hides night skies in overcast—won’t moon me

Posted in Art is lies, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Moon | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Early September Frost

This one’s a response of sorts to Andrew Griffin’s much more concise poem, “The long-dead stars though nameless.” Early September Frost Really, Winter? Five nights since September began and already you’re breathing down our necks from where you lurk between … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Blue Heron, Cinquain, Cosmology, Epistemology, Gulls, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Rain, Time, Winter | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

September Morning Rain Cinquain

Drinking my coffee by the window alone—guess this morning the rain’s what keeps you away

Posted in Art is lies, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Rain | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

In the Night

Guess I’ve decided I can’t let Andrew Griffin write all the good cicada poems. In the Night With you gone there’s nothing in the night but trees wild with wind and cicadas’ ceaseless longing

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cicadas, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Summer, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The August Evening Crow Agenda

Sunset and the crows fill the air with gossip, sky with black wings—leave us behind in the dark  

Posted in Art is lies, Charlottetown, Cinquain, Crows, Jason Arsenault, Jeremy Larter, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Summer, The Crow Agenda | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

m1 • v1 + m2 • v2 = m1 • v1′ + m2 • v2′ (Momentum and Collisions)

A white scar on onyx— and the stars like glass dust strewn by impact—the August moon, risen

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cinquain, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Physics, Poem tweets, Poetry, Summer, The Moon, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Late Summer Storm (with process note)

Late Summer Storm Cinquain* Two clouds then two clouds more and more till the sky’s all raindark as your eyes, strobe lightning, thunder *Back to the cinquain form for a bit. I missed it. Also, another example of how everything … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cinquain, Consciousness, Creativity, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Process, Summer, The Rain, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

August Thistles at Province House

Take it as read, of course, that this applies to the Prime Minister and his cronies as well. August Thistles at Province House Shaggy purple thistles slouch at Province House—still less seedy than the Premier, his caucus Var. August Thistles at … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Capitalism, Charlottetown, Cinquain, Corporate Capitalism, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Political Commentary, Social Commentary, Summer | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Early August Cinquain

August, and the lindens are spent. They’ve long since shed their pale, pungent flowers and gone to seed.

Posted in Cinquain, John MacKenzie, Lindens, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Summer, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Spring, A Reprise (and a short process note)

You can call this an experiment, a last-ditch, so to speak, attempt to marry tanka and cinqain stanzas into a longer poem by alternating them in a revisiting of the content of much of the short spring-themed calendrical pieces I … Continue reading

Posted in Apple Blossoms, Art is lies, Art is theft, Cinquain, Honey locust, John MacKenzie, Lilacs, Lupins, Magnolias, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Process, Spring, Summer, Tanka, The Moon, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Waiting for the Summer Moon

Waiting for the Summer Moon Mid-June nights are a sweet reek of honey locust layered with lilac and lightened by shafts of pale fragrance rising off the hooded lantern glow of lily of the valley burning in woods and at … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Cinquain, Honey locust, John MacKenzie, Lilacs, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Summer, The Moon | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Hockey Fans Versus Wallace Stevens

Hockey Fans Versus Wallace Stevens One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost … … and not to think Of any misery in the sound of the wind…. —Wallace Stevens, The Snow Man. Hockey? I’d rather watch … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cinquain, Concussions, Gulls, John MacKenzie, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Stompin' Tom Connors, The Brain, Wallace Stevens | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment