Tag Archives: mythopoesis

Mythopoesis 30 – Darien’s Poem

Posted on April 30, 2015 by

For NaPoWriMo  Day 30 Darien’s Poem This poem is a myth in the making, a story unfolding, seeking a place of its own, singular space it might call home. This poem has traveled for days, one at a time, searching … Continue reading →

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Mythopoesis 29 – A Ribbon of Words

Posted on April 29, 2015 by

For NaPoWriMo  Day 29 A Ribbon of Words Earlier, I said that words are a ribbon that may become a skein of poetry. Have you ever seen someone pick up the end of a thread of yarn and begin to … Continue reading →

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Mythopoesis 28 – The Mentor Speaks

Posted on April 28, 2015 by

For NaPoWriMo  Day 28 The Mentor Speaks Once upon a time, in a time long, long ago, poets were believed to be magicians. Believed to hold and wield a certain power. And on some level, to a certain degree, they … Continue reading →

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Mythopoesis 27 – A Mentor’s Magic

Posted on April 27, 2015 by

For NaPoWriMo  Day 27 A Mentor’s Magic Mama! Mama! What a wonderful day it has been. I read my poem. A man came out of the forest, a traveler. He sat to listen and really liked my poem. Clapped and … Continue reading →

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Mythopoesis 26 – Unraveling The Poem

Posted on April 26, 2015 by

For NaPoWriMo Day 26 And For The Sunday Whirligig: Whirligig #4 http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/ mottled, velour, purse, ink, dissonant, shade, stain, lace, diaphanous, clip, iridescent, weather Unraveling The Poem But, Darien sir, I still don’t understand how a poem can be a … Continue reading →

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Mythopoesis 25 – What Is A Poem

Posted on April 25, 2015 by

For NaPoWriMo  Day 25 What Is A Poem? Embarrassed by his open display of exuberance, the man from Interlude bowed his head after telling the child that her mother was a wise teacher. She smilingly nodded. The children’s teacher stepped … Continue reading →

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Mythopoesis 24 – The Learning Begins

Posted on April 24, 2015 by

For NaPoWriMo Day 24 The Learning Begins The circle of children and teacher sat in shade of a huge oak, refreshed by a gentle breeze rustling softly through overhanging leaves. He sat, leaning back against its trunk, surprised at the … Continue reading →

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