Daily Archives: May 2, 2013

They Might Be Giants – Turtle Songs of North America

Since I have been on a turtle kick most of my life, I thought I’d search for the most awesome U-tube video out there about our reptilian friends. Naturally, I typed in the words “turtle” and “They Might Be Giants.” … Continue reading

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May I introduce my traveling tin turtle!

This is the dashboard bobble that inspired my concrete poem “Turtle Treasure.” He is a scooter on an incline, a chime at the turn on a dime, a thrill-seeker in the sunshine, the cold-blooded tin-man, and a very resilient, rustic … Continue reading

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Guarded heart

Originally posted on The ancient eavesdropper:
Snapping turtle, nature’s trap set to spring shut on man’s foot if he fails to mind his steps. Mother snapper guards her new clutch of eggs like a very large hen roosting on her…

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A poet’s soliloquy

Do you like to spout poetry aloud or just whisper its breath betwixt your brow? Do you prefer punctuating sentences  with pronounced pauses or calligraphed crestfallen commas? Will a crowded reading room ring true as other eyes within earshot  circle … Continue reading

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Put your funny bone to the test with They Might Be Giants!

My favorite, most quirky band, “They Might Be Giants,” invites you to put science to the test in this smart and witty music video. Enjoy and please hypothesize responsibly!

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Turtle Treasure

Concrete poem of a traveling turtle I also added my favorite color into the fray of poetry. A rambling turtle gathers green moss, my mind fertile enough to tap into the truisms of a terrapin who shoulders our planet. Not … Continue reading

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Carry and care

Sleep, the silent sentry of the night, sends us signals  without sight; we stumble  into each other’s dreams, tossing and turning  under blankets, torsos tied together as one inseparable secret of involuntary thought. Squirming in a wormhole  wrought with shadows … Continue reading

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There’s an ant in my honey

Originally posted on The ancient eavesdropper:
Disclaimer:  No ants were harmed during the making of this poem.   Ants on the countertop, where did they come from? Dancing about as if doing the tango.   I thought and I pondered…

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State of undress

Out in the yard the naked trees  embrace one another, seeking shelter from bitter winds that whip the last leaves off  into a pile at my feet; I wear their clothing  with every step I take.

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