heedless soul grasp the night like glass smoke squeezing til it almost shatters cold gather shards like quartz snow glittered red
Month: December 2021
Ashen Bed of the Lake of Fire – A Cywydd Llosgyrnog
heaven explodes with champagne fire matchstick treetops conduct fierce choirs snapping limbs tire cracking sharp timbered titans tumble beneath aqueous cinder flowing seethes drowned earth still breathes ashen bark
Cloud Formations – A Lethrannaegecht Mor
grey clouds like pillars found over the marsh stood at attention with tension and starch marched in formation for soundless they go glissading on ice nice ebb and swift flow
Nature’s Kiss – A Sonnet
the taste of persimmon after the frost its sugar clinging to my yearning lips born of a precious seed once be’lieved lost concealed within a field of rosen hips a musky perfume hangs upon the air arisen from a garden doused in dew the tender tended fruit does swell and flare as the silken petals…
A Stone’s Throw – A Ballade
still i struggle to find my place and to accept my lot in life and to sustain a breakneck pace be’set on all cor’ners by strife pushed to the edge by blade of knife i press myself against its edge exhale a cry as shrill as fife and turn my head to face the ledge…
He, She & the Smoking Bishop – A Blank Verse Poem
and their cries echoed with the ringing bells as christmas crested on the chilly breeze heated words hung with odious timbre boiling over like spiced wine ‘pon a flame just as potent yet not so fragrant nor as sweet as black liquorice and peppercorn christmas spirits lacking complexity mulled with bitter words dripping acidic as…
The Word Exchange – A Blank Verse Poem
so many words are wasted in a day exhausted in tedious dialogue haphazardly inserted in emails frivolously texted without a thought lavishly painted purple in our prose pretentiously spouted in poetry repetitively belted out in song meandering in legato fashion excruciating staccato pacing exchanging words without a second thought ringing hollow like a dead tree…
Do You Feel a Bit Peckish?
within a derelict detachment of thought a morbid curiosity expands shrinking the image of concubine earth eliminating hunger of satisfaction thirsting lust in this dripping heat
Thank You Everyone!
I’d like to take a moment to show appreciation for everyone who took time to view my blog and follow me this past year. This has been a prolific period for Piecework Prose and it has seen exponential growth in that time. Two books were self-published (Calling Forth, In the Midst of Crisis) with an…
Piecework Prose 