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The Wistman

Verses of the Current

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The Wistman

I've not contributed much of my own verse here, I hope something can be sparked in our creative community.  Mine's not so good, but it feels good to wring out the mental sponges and say the things that aren't so easy to otherwise say.  I wrote this one today.  Please feel free to contribute, style and length are entirely up to you.


9 9 2020, The News



I turned on the tv.

September snow in Wyoming,

California cremating.  The graves

of squirrels in ash can hardly dent enough to match

antelope hoof prints in cool frosting spread

like salve to blank the wounded, breaking minds

cross-eyed, DOWed up, plague-numbed under

dream sold consciousness, breath so slow

and curious.


Her hair as I recall was a long braid

undone when bands were broken, so I should know

that quick ascent is just fool’s gold, the stone thumb

wouldn’t bend back, couldn’t let those fingers curl

lonely, afraid into her tresses unleashed,

the bland tumor of regret is braced to choke

a wild breath even now out of my chest.



scorching isn’t here -

no snows with eccentric entrances,

plump squirrels tumble through the grass I’ve mown

and cat requires a stroke I should have given

countless yesterdays ago to her, my fingers curl

patient as the agile cat meows.



Edited by The Wistman
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The Wistman

9 11 2020,   



Ringing in my ears now

Never goes away

Tinnitis of the era


Opening the autumn

mountains scrape the clear sky

changing to a fall


Noble trees stand wounded

Eyelashes drop.  Red

the memories, fragments


readying the paleness

Gaps iced over

Buck in a white field, leaping



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We certainly need some descriptions of these crazy times, good idea.

I wrote this short one in Norwegian, hope the translation works.. Maybe the Poet Brage from Norse mythology would recognize this short verse as a description of Loki.


The fight against dawn.

On the beach stands
a man yelling
for the sun is so stubborn;
he huts angry
points to the west;
"There the sun shall rise!"

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