Tag: freewriting exercise

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #78

Idle, the hands rest on the sides,in grasp of air, filling pockets with sands of time and other vagrants; I am finding a wayto turn the meaningless into indecipherable monomania,the repeating-repeating-re-peating of a long-loved scotch,and the quiet call of a morningbird before it flies into glass; What is life but to run forwardwith your eyes […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #18

i’ve been thinking of how to make a poem which isn’t a poem which is to say since everything can and should be poetry everything should and can be treated as such i wake up in the morning and my sheets are crumpled over in a balled hedgehog curl bound on the end of the […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #17

No mercy for the zealots, no mercy for those with their eyes shut and their hands over their ears rocking in their chairs over and over, no mercy for those who pray but do not practice, no mercy for false lovers and those who decide based on convenience, no mercy for those who engage in […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #16

Walking down the city boardwalk I am in pursuit of a greater evening. It is a miracle and a privilege to be alive and doing nothing at all. I commiserate and I conversate with the crowds of nobody relevant. Sometimes I let words unentangle their tongues in my pockets. My hands are at home there […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #15

God was a carpenter because I don’t know any carpenters. That is a way to start a prayer,in the same way it is to end one. Sometimes in the middle of crossing the road I stop to think of the luminal space between God and pavement. Consider: God as pavement.Consider: God as atheist. I am […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #14

Staring down the clock to divine meaning from the intersection of clock hands. Hands on top of hands, layers upon layers of intimacy stacked like a half-shuffled deck of cards. Is it any wonder why we personify Time? But why is Time a father? Time has never given us pause. Time is a mother, time […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #13

Anything to keep the faucet going, anything to keep that great big hamster-wheel of the heart spinforever, anything to be a poem.I realise that my life has been a series of fortunate events andseveral turns of phrase, like the turnstile of the station nearest to my first heartbreak. Hark, it’s9pm and I’m dirty and unwashedand […]