A Test of Suitability

walk on the cement
to the booth of wares
but tread soft on the grass

take note of the living around you
the song in every heart
the hope in every bloom

don’t turn
your back
on this

walking through
the gate of heart’s hope
what trials will await you then

when hope will return
and softly lift your heart
for your kindness

don’t turn back

walking through
the gate of mercy’s surprise
what trials will await you then

when surprise will return
and you will be repaid
for your mercy

/ / /

This poem was written using the twelve words of Wordle 404 at The Sunday Whirl.

Empty Dining Room

A mixtape playing / on the old boombox
Cookbooks on the shelf / leaning against it
Vibrating softly / the alchemy of music

Listening to Sting singing
“Moon over Bourbon Street”

The pull of the music moon / upon us both
The pull of wine / upon you
The pull of gin / upon me

The dull glow of the cloudy moon / upon us
I pull you close / a quick kiss
As the spirit / the spirits / move me

Back to cooking / its own alchemy

Part of the alchemy / of us
You with a pinch of salt
Me cracking the pepper

The music swells and subsides
Into triphop / something chill

And dinner is ready / almost without us noticing
But we eat standing up / in the kitchen
Waiting for the end / of the tape

/ / /

This poem was written to the twelve words of Wordle 396 at The Sunday Whirl.

As the reality of writing poetry again throughout April was approaching, I thought that writing a poem or two in late March was a good idea. This is one of the poems I wrote then but didn’t post at the time.

orphan, hold your charms close

orphan, hold your charms close

they moved you / from the country to the city
there is more than dust on the window / you stare out of

there is sense in sighing / but don’t stifle your song
remember how your mother sang

remember how your father made you fly
how you floated in the air

remember the sense of those
never take them off

keep singing / learn to fly someday yourself
spread your smile and your charm

there is sense in that / in you

/ / /

This poem was written using the twelve words of Wordle 402 at The Sunday Whirl.

That Math Problem

Some fifth graders want to give up / too soon
Say it’s impossible / to solve

But I’ve never given them a problem
That can’t be solved

From time to time / some of the problems
Have more than one solution

Those are the most fun
The opposite of impossible

But that still misses the point
The fun is not in the solution

It’s in the solving

/ / /

This poem was written to the impossible poem prompt at Poetic Asides.

Complete Blank

I’ve drawn a complete blank / see it’s right there in invisible ink
a prank from my younger days

okay / but seriously

the blank page taunts me / is daunting
completely unlike a kindergartner in a white sheet
dressed for Halloween as a ghost
haunting me

they’re not scary
maybe they’re funny / or better yet cute
but they’re not scary

that’s the trick
to the treat of conquering
the blank page

/ / /

This poem was written to the “Complete (blank)” prompt at Poetic Asides.


The notion of / usually / structures
Are widely used / in disciplines theory / and linguistics

A correspondence between two
One may write / in place of / relation

Binary relation / need not coincide

Finite representations / suppose / one can describe this
respectively / the intersection

These points / denoted / by symbols

The corresponding elements / are connected
Thus / correspondence / is represented

Zero / is the empty correspondence
Identity / consisting of / the domain of definition

Any correspondence / establishes closure

/ / /

This poem was written to the correspondence prompt at Poetic Asides. It is also a found poem, using the definition of correspondence from the Encyclopedia of Mathematics.


The one thing I didn’t want to do / was draw actual scenes
That were taking place in the book.

Mostly / I did portraits / of the characters
And did little spot illustrations
That were / mostly / meant to provide mood
And atmosphere.

I tried not / to draw the monsters.

I just wanted to create a mood
And not tell the reader too much.

I like illustration, but as a guy reading a book
I don’t want an artist telling me
This is how these guys look.

/ / /

This poem was written to the sketch prompt at Poetic Asides for day twenty-one. This also happens to be a found poem, the words coming from an interview with Mike Mignola.

Crystal Cave

We do not go to the see the lampenflora
But to see the formations and colors
We need to bring light into the cave

The highlight / pun intended
Is the cave where all the lights are turned off
And we listen to the water and its echoes

I have grown cynical
As I have been shaped by others
And not by water as this cave was

So I am not surprised
At how my fellow humans cannot tolerate
Either the dark or their own silence

For just one minute

/ / /

This poem was written to the day twenty prompt to write a dark poem at Poetic Asides.


When we were little
We were told
To color inside the lines

We did what we were told
To the best of our ability

What we were permitted to do

We were told the rules
And we were told to follow them

Perhaps we were taught the rules
By modeling
By example
Through a story

We were handed an invisible license
To act the way we were told

We colored in the bubble letters
Of that license
In our imaginations

Some neatly
Some sloppily

We printed our name
On the line

We did not know cursive yet
Signatures a sign of adulthood

We did our best to make the letters neatly
To have the right spacing
Between letters
And then between words

We were told which way
The lines were to face

The solid lines and the dotted lines
Were our guides

We were given a license to write
And ones for spelling and punctuation

And we were given a license to read

When we were older
We were told
To think outside the box

Now we were supposed
To ignore the lines

And the invisible license
We were given this time
Was blank

/ / /

This poem was written to the day nineteen prompt at Poetic Asides to write a license poem.