Monday, July 28, 2014

A Visitor

welcome mat
woven or rubber
door may be open 
door may be closed
matters not
step through or up against
feet square 
key under 
“come on in”
“come to stay?”

Heart and Soul

So you can play, and play for hours,
linking moves as in a swing dance,
an improvisation that sounds
like a song you've heard more than once—
though culture has put that song down.

You risk disparaging glances
as you start to boom-de-ah-dah.
Say you haven't tickled them since
grad school back in Arizona—
your fingers find their old power,

madly snap appoggiaturas;
fancified melodic forays
ring the teeth of the rusty saw.
Boogie-woogie on yesterday's
abandon, bouncing every ounce

of self-aware grown up away.
A can of worms: "Oh, do you play?"

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

IMUNURI Prompt: Answer to Question

For this week's writing, start with an answer
and end with a question.

keywords: poem, your handle, question 

Thursday, July 10, 2014

The dying art of letter writing

Today, I recieved a letter in the mail from an old friend.
A New Mexican who loves the stark and barren romance
of the landscape that envelops her.
The look of her hand-written script was as pleasing and artfully disheveled
as I remember her to be.

My eyes joyfully followed the line of letters and bold, punctuating marks
in their fervent effort to describe.
I could tell that she relished each stroke of that drugstore ballpoint pen.
The pressure, release and glide of it's crown
translating her mood as sensitively as an artist's sable-haired brush.

I wondered whether she realized, or cared
that every tenth word or so was illegible.
Causing the eye to stop and tumble over them.
Words that looked like balls of tangled thread.
Others like hastily written musical notations.
Or ancient Japanese calligraphy by the "Wild Sisters of Zen."

I was surprised by the intensity of my gratitude
for the drop of water or tear or tea that bled the ink
and curled the corner of the page.

This simple hand-written note.
Like a relic, a keepsake, a remembrance.
A true oddity among the daily scroll
of digital salutations.

The sage-scented sheet extended out like an invitation to a handshake.
A tactile way to bridge a distance seperating two friends.
A way to touch.

Monday, July 7, 2014

IMUNURI Prompt: Post-It Poem

Okay, so writing a poem without writing it down is an unexpected challenge for many.

Let's try a nearer-fetched experiment with writerly media, namely:

Post-It Poems

Draft poems on post-it notes, or write them and transfer final versions to post-it.

Here at IMUNURI, post your post-it poetry as text or upload a scan or photo of your post-it poem.

Bonus points for posting the poem somewhere before taking the picture.

keywords: your monicker, poem, post-it

Monday, June 23, 2014

IMUNURI Prompt: Write Without Paper

In the next two weeks, try this writing technique:
instead of putting implement to paper to write, then revisiting what you've written to revise,
write an entire poem in your memory.

It will help to recite the poem to yourself as you write it, to commit lines to memory before you add new lines.

You might also write stanza by stanza if that's easier, completing each before jotting it down and moving on to the next.

What choices will you make to help you compose a poem in your memory before writing it on paper?

TAGS: your name, poem, memorize

Friday, June 20, 2014

Dead calm

Dead Calm

Parle de ses doigts a fusil
(speak of your trigger fingers)

lengths gone
over the lines
longer thans
vanishing horizons
gulf streams
la langue qui s’enlarge
(the tongue that grows)
la faim sans vide
(the bottomless hunger)

a mime in a rowboat

dead calm

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Dolce accelerando

By the time I get to North Beach, my skin is sliding against my skin
It’s late spring and hot, and the only thing I need is gelato—
Kahlua with dark chocolate chunks and chocolate-covered almonds—
so cold—milk coffee caramel thick, licked in the shade so slow.
I scrape the bottom, and I get up to walk back downtown.

I decide to have a cookie, too. I am so
vanquished that later I also gulp a peach
and feel that falling compulsion I know
from bodysurfing at Sandy Beach.
In salt surge and sugar siphon,

I stand and stroke while each wave
eats me up, foraging,
back-bending creature,
pushing the verge,
pushed below

one large

Craig Damlo

Monday, June 9, 2014

IMUNURI Prompt: MoodTempo

Check out this list of musical
"mood markings with a tempo connotation."

You can scroll up or down for more inspiration
from musical terms and directions.
Choose a term from this page as your poem's title
or part of the title;
then write the poem.

With Fire: Allegro con brio

Playfully: Scherzo leggiero

Stately: Maestoso

keywords: your monicker, poem, moodtempo

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Gathering Herd

Mint-breathed Creature saga continued

a pasture
to invite others to
enjoy & gather in
may lead to a mint-breathed creature
crossed with  a four legged labordite (hairless, thin skinned, large brained)
& then who will greet the world in their aftermath
Le Bagondelle (only commonality four legged)

quick witted & drama driven
with a passion for red poppies
Mint-breathed creature’s love had no reserve &
Mate held back no touch (such luxurious long curly hair Baggie wore)
Ah what a spoiled childhood Le Bagondelle indulged...

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

The limeronnet

There once was a bottlenose whale
who had wings thrice as long as her tail.
She could break from the sea
quite effortlessly

and sail through the heavenly veil
while scouting the waves for sea kale.
Her home in the firmament
became semi-permanent—

she only splashed down to avail
herself of some calm in a gale.
But in the clear weather
she stretched out her leather

and flew where the air was so rarefied
(leaving dozens of pilots quite terrified).

by Ashley McFarland AKA copperarabian

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Imunuri Prompt: futurtopia - birdrels and squirds

ebirdseed's Pteradactyl Squirrel
What would it be like to be half one species, half another? In some futur-topian hybrid (hybird?) universe, either due to apocalypse or creative diversification, some poets and writers imagine a world of mixture. Squirrels and birds... wings and hooves (unicorn and pegasus, anyone)? Either through inventing a hybrid poetic form, or by writing a poem of a species hybrid, imagine the future ...
Feed the Birds T-shirt Design

tags: squird, poem, [poet's moniker];

Friday, May 23, 2014


Much too early
In the Spring of 2014
Native wild bulbs were blooming in full
Unwinding from their underground Winter spools 
On the hillsides above the creek.
Along sidewalk gardens
The Daffodils 
Planted only for the pleasure of the eye,
Were plump.
Their split yellow buds deepened in color.
Reminding me of Canaries bringing a warning 
Of dangers near at hand.
Late Fall, 2013
In dry, hot California,
Peoples minds turned to water.
We dreamed of rivers and creeks.
Those impartial carriers of sustenance
Or poisons introduced
By our ancient fantasy of dominion
And the injury of merely 
Standing aside as an onlooker 
Or a newsagent 
Who broadcasts reason
While well-mannered rhetoric
Masks destruction.
Mid Winter 2013, 
Brought the record drought we all feared.
Unprecedented since 1929.
Our dreams brought us images of
Women singing for rain.
Their bodies merging with 
Alders and Salmon in the shallow creek.

We knew that our lives were 
Completely dependent
On those northwest winds lifting off the ocean
Just forty miles away.
Eventually I saw them 
Pushing and forming the hint of a cloud
Reflected in a pool along a brook
Where a fallen tree had stilled the flow of water
Creating a mirror for the sky.

Late Winter, 2014
Real rains came on the cusp of our despair.
Adding weight and expanse to the sponge of soils.
Settling into underground streams that ran joyful
Like sleeping snakes awakened from long hibernation.
Set free to play their sinuous games once again.
Anchored in service to an inexact compass.
Unforeseeable in it's shifting.

Thursday, May 22, 2014


“Sailor’s delight, maybe,” she snides,
“but those clouds are menacing weird.”
We lose west a couple seconds,
and our internal clocks spin wild
as though we’ve driven since midnight

instead of since noon, and the sound
of breakers becomes Atlantic—
and we’ve gone back several decades.
“Like a storm’s coming in.” She checks
the rearview, the speedometer.

“Maybe it’s apocalyptic,”
said absently as infrared.
“Maybe those clouds,” she extends rock-
and-roll fingers, “are the heralds

We drive a while, pass a schoolyard.
“Probably just the regular kind.”

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Ether Undone

Ether Undone 

seeds in envelope
loose round, unlocked echo
stretched note, soft coat

Sunday, May 18, 2014

This Matter Exists, Like a Broken Window

I want to swim
in luminiferous
aether, backstroke
in lighter air
than real air,
float above
quantum vacuums
that fill empty
with perfumes
everyone yearns for,
because there's no
sensory wading
in aether single,
where gestures
remain uncertain.

Thursday, May 15, 2014

From the Crisper

You are fresh grassy
lush leaf & raw tender.
Look at this verdant
bud, burgeoning
& developing, such
flourishing foliage.
You are maturing
and pullulating
recent sprouts.
I call you supple,
from verduous beds --
you are half formed,
pliable, unsophisticated
& perfect for salad.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Pantone Poem

 Pantone Poem

shade only known in dream
without sewing thread seam
sifted sans flour
shifted sands hour
characters chronologically mixed
rainbow not fixed
step on stage in no order
script has no border
lose their place
only to be replaced
by best forgotten

Monday, May 12, 2014

IMUNURI Prompt: Pantone

271 Years Before Pantone, an Artist Mixed and Described Every Color Imaginable in an 800-Page Book

Choose a color to inform a poem.
As mood.
As subject.
As imagery.
As word or langauge.
But as you write avoid using the name of the color within the poem.
Can you avoid using the name of any color in the poem and still evoke color. As mood, subject, imagery, word, language?

LABELS: your name, "poem," pantone

Smells like Spirit

In an aboriginal
unified field theory, Sound,
the primal all-belly, churns
every vibration around
wind-blown halls of a conch shell.

Matters foment and rebound,
karma chasing chemicals
to holy transformations
making not just sound but smell,
wafts mixed in air and airborne

wavelengths of primeval salt—
ferric, uric, sulfuric—
animate material.
Gas breath in solid music,
prime reason in primal cause.

That’s why your nose, mute and quick
is your wisest oracle.

Saturday, May 10, 2014


despite the pure fluidity of all things
things still seem stuck frozen at times

at times like these when reflections surface
distortions  refractions  images broken up

broken up into many pieces then shorn
as if cohesive and malleable workable

workings as if reliable and functioning
stable we take hold perhaps unawares

unaware of the tenderness of the situation
the pure fluidity of all things and more

Friday, May 9, 2014


Unruly wind, spin-kiss this blue soul wing of mine and waft
me above coulees of cataracts, heedless
of my malaise;
catapult my wary skin skyward, heave this heart
into the hail's fussilade
where I might tumble into
perilous light.



I do not cross the street to get a closer look (to menace, intrude)
I am able to not write that scene to continue 
in this 
knowing a Camus moment is possible
an alignment of geological pressures coinciding
one one thousand is enough to realize to shift the focus quickly (to not dwell, not obsess)
take the finger off the trigger the eye from the object change the subject (not subject)
accept distrust of the solidity of the earth we stand on
allow the possible breach, an opening unexpected
a trembling rumbling inevitable but not time predictable
step off the curb with a surety the next earthquake will be felt

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

May Morning

Mountain fog
forces its heavy
emptiness on fungi,
fondles its way up
forest pines and taps
its tendrils against
skies too innocent
to swallow such

Friday, May 2, 2014

Imunuri Prompt: Elemental - Aether

scribe an offering 
inspired by the element of aether, space, akasha

what hums in you, what moves your essence, what shimmers you, and where is the unseen permeating you? what, if alchemically aligned, would be activated by your subtle vibrations? how is the origin of creation densely interwoven in you? scribe with the unseen pen. write aether.

Tags: aether, epic-earth, poem, <poet's moniker>

Epic-Earth on Imunuri: An ongoing series of earth-related prompts as part of an Imunuri experiment to dwell repeatedly on a theme and its riffs, and/or the possible poetry challenge, bit by bit, of producing an epic or body of poems...

Image source: NASA, eXtreme deep field of space (XDF), image and higher res image, Public Domain. Above is a youtube compendium video flying through the eXtreme deep field. "This is the eXtreme Deep Field, a composite shot of all the galaxies in a teensy view of space, taken by the Hubble Space Telescope's two primary cameras over the past decade. Look at all those galaxies!" (from Geekologie)

For more, see Aether including the idea that it was "subtler than light" (Fludd) and Akasha, the "substratum of sound" (The Nyaya and Vaisheshika schools of Hindu philosophy).

asperity and rupture: quakewriting


An asperity is an area on a fault that is stuck. The earthquake rupture usually begins at an asperity. 


this is the lethal consequence of block, writers
words stuck behind the fingernail and retina, how
they build

forcefield   stockpile   kryptonitelock

part of myself clamping part of myself
as if somehow silencing would shut down the fount of truthing
this rubbing sanding clamping cramping bracing coerc
sing asperity troubling vexing vortexing rupturing out

sputter clench sputter clench press sprout
spring sling stout shout
tumbling rumbling fiercing forking flocking
word quake bursting out
rabblemassing crumble sassing Shasta bubbling
seesawing whipsawing magmagyrating
shimmyword shake eruption

temerity loquacity vivacity bulge force spout

like the pacific coastal mountains
I didn't know
who I was
how i was
til it all came out. 

Friday, April 18, 2014


if I wake up just as you’re wrapping up your monologue
with a moaning mutter, a growl from below my tongue
that sets my toes and fingers trembling, my hand, leg,
epileptic apoplectic slapping against the floor, flailing
and beating like this skin itself is the leather, the rope
that snaps, beating the floor, oscillating, striking hard
enough to lift me into the air and slam me down again,
dropping books and crushing crystal glasses, ignorant,
tectonic, concussive, liver, intestine, spleen, gall—and
my lungs’ volume now screeched up to a deep scream,
Richter register violence knocking my self into a pulp—
and gone—like hot wind stealing away a piece of paper
on which is written the news, will you fetch it and read?


Thursday, April 10, 2014

Imunuri Prompt: Elemental - Earthquake

scribe an offering 
inspired by the element of earth, rock, earthquake

what shakes in you, what moves your bedrock, what grounds you, and where is the ground shifting under you? what, if shifted in shaking, would be pulverized by your tremors? write earthquake.

[you can try incorporating one or more of these words if you like: ]

Tags: earthquake, epic-earth, poem, <poet's moniker>

Epic-Earth on Imunuri: An ongoing series of earth-related prompts as part of an Imunuri experiment to dwell repeatedly on a theme and its riffs, and/or the possible poetry challenge, bit by bit, of producing an epic or body of poems...

Image source:   San Andreas Fault. Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons.

small ripple

In tills which have been oriented by flowing water, fabric indicates the preferred orientation of the grains. Sedimentologists would refer to this as "imbrication."

         From the glacier glossary,

outward, small ripple
blue ice molecule in my heart
glaciates and grows, what will
this rill of molten blue
portend for my
once warm hea(r)t?

city too long, cement
fatigues me, until
all feeling wanes
a dull throb at limb
i remember i once lived

glorious spangles sputter
into frozen butterflies
stalagtites shuttered
my core ablated, creaking

4. calving two automatons
where once i stood
turn-shifting in solid seas
casting a glacial surge 
cresting into the blue

glacial surge
A rapid forward movement of the snout of a glacier. Others describe it as rapid, wavelike downglacial ice movements which cause sudden advances of the ice margin.    From the glacier glossary,