Trying to Break the Sense

My assignment for myself was to try to break the sense, break the sentence.  I was going to use the half-hour sessions of writing during the last three days to create fodder for this poem.  I stumbled a bit on that, and I never really broke out of the sentence.  But I have a little something interesting, I think.

Green is the toad word the
song of the morning the
hush of  a wee slamander
crouching beneath stars

I would be indigo
arcing through waterfall
I would be waterfall
dripping and gushing
I wonder when singing
reflects the rainbow
or whether my wandering greenness
displays a museum of dreams

Now that’s the brown metaphor
I was hunting
the hitching of zing to aha
There we go
Here we go
Falling beneath the wheel of the moment

And here’s a sunbeam
or off to the races we dance
but the moonlight is ticklish
and you’ve been in tangles
so when do we settle
like spiders in corners
to ponder the morning?


Gratitude List:
1.  “I love my snow day!” says Joss.  I concur.  Making snow people and eating snow and sledding.
2.  The beautiful necklace Ellis made for himself.  Focused work for hours.  And no self-consciousness about what is “gender appropriate.”
3.  That scrappy little wren who is threatening to make a nest in my garage.
4.  Finding the inner discipline to plan out my extremely busy week.  Planning ahead has actually become something that I have a great deal of resistance to, inwardly.  Pushing through whatever that is makes me feel like I have really accomplished something.
5.  Making the pizza myself, crust and all.  Why don’t we do that more often?

May we walk in beauty.

2013 March 149

4 thoughts on “Trying to Break the Sense

  1. #5, answer: because I’m always trying to write that poem or that post or that scene. Torn between two lovers: writing and living. heh, very frustrating. Thanks for a wonderful post. I love your blog.


    1. I appreciate the affirmation. I’m glad you enjoy it. Yes, there’s always that pull between the mundane and the sublime. I like Kathleen Norris’s take on the mundane–calling the daily tasks of living the Quotidian Mysteries, acknowledging that there is sacred work to be done in the daily labors. Still, it doesn’t quite help to relieve the tension of needing to make that pizza crust or fold that load of laundry when there’s a really important piece of writing tickling the back of your skull, eh?


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