~ No one reads poetry, lest the poet be dead. ~ Somewhere or someplace, I heard that once said. ~ This poem’s a short one. ~ It’s not very long. ~ By the time you are here, it’s done! ~ And I’m gone. . . . [Revised 03 March 2012] ©Marvin Loyd Welborn 2011
~ The birds all fall into accolades, on the mornings of Central Virginia. ~ Colorful chorals that can escalade – pro forma, concerti, eudaimonia. ~ On and on, no stoppage of song, way long after morning’s forgotten. ~ All in all, a sound, a melodious funk; as it rises […] Continue reading
– A willow stands upon this land, an antiquated tree. How old you ask – I cannot say, but older than are we. – I met this tree when I was young a boy of maybe three. And even then it was beyond a score or more than me. – Now, many of years have […] Continue reading
I still can recall the story, now old, as clearly as just yesterday. For context however, and it to be told, I must go back into time – What year this all was, I can’t say. I was merely sixteen, still young, a teen, inclined rather deep in a young man’s own way to […] Continue reading
Sometimes I go out, my fly is wide open; sometimes I don’t catch it at all! ~ Perhaps it’s a stretch, but I am still hopin’ for a Freudian Slip, not the Fall. ©Marvin Loyd Welborn 2011
~ A Humming Bird! she hovers here! then darts in jet-like fashion. Fast and fleet in a soundless streak, I wonder, where keeps her bastion? ~ This Humming Bird’s in search of flower, red with nectar sweet! She stands time still, for what seems an hour, seeking red red meat to eat. ~ Zipping here, […] Continue reading
~ It’s raining in Central Virginia. It’s grey and everything’s wet. No blue sky today in Virginia, Just water is all we will get. ~ Percussions of patter, trickles of splatter, A hundred, if thousand, rivulets. The pounding and splatter of water on matter, And water wets all that it hits. ~ Amazingly more is […] Continue reading
– In plain talk! Modernists dubbed vers libre. To break the pentameter And the metrical foot; To free! ala vers libre, To say what you want; To open the lines to a free-form of font; To write concretely of things, and not of ideas; Basically, to write what the hell that you want! – ”I […] Continue reading
Tink's ChapBlog ~ Tales of the Tribe. Mythopoeic Verse 