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Write the Year 2025—Week 7: A ways from now

Late. I just could not get my act together last night; more images from walks, but this time stirring childhood memories. Back when LiveJournal was a thing, I wrote a simple post about how strange a house like mine (the one I occupy now) must seem to the neighborhood kids in summer. Except then I realized that neighborhood kids almost certainly don’t know the houses in the same way I did back…

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Write the Year 2025—Week 6: Second-Hand Windows

Trying to keep on keeping on, but it’s hard. Just a Diminishing Hexaverse here. Title: Second-Hand WindowsWC: 59 Rusty Picasso heartsBrown paper-bag magicOne tombstone on the moveAll that was wears awayImpressionistic birdsI lose myself in loss Tarnish settles inThough silver persistsQuestion-mark handlesMust have wondered onceHow the sun forgot Winter revealsContorted limbsGaze fixed…

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Write the Year 2025—Week 5: Quietus

This is sort of to the poetry prompt from Poets & Writers for this week. It’s been an exciting few days in the Danger Beagle woods. I know everyone (except me) hates this time of year, but I really love the visuals—and all the sensations really—right now. It’s a Cinq Trois DecaLa Rhyme Title: QuietusWC: 110 When summer comes, who but I will miss the settle of smoke blueThe peevish, pebbled…

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Write the Year 2025—Week 4: The Pond

A chain of abolition. Feeling pretty empty of inspiration, but this does depart from something (oh, two somethings, now that I am looking) in my “stimulus list.” Title: The PondWC: 68 The frozen ghostspress their concrete handsto the pen-nib windows,Hungry for the light within.Roadside psalmsWho listens close?Who misunderstands?Who bothers with the woeswhen the veil between grows thin?What…

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Write the Songs 2025: Song #2—The Wave

The assignment was to use standard tuning and experiment with moving a chord shape up and down the neck. I don’t know why I’m consorting with E major, which is legitimately one of my least favorite chords. But for some reason, the E to D (but hitting the major 7 of the D while playing a regular D) was hitting my ear right for something that was going to end up key-less. And then moving the E…

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Write the Year 2025—Week 3: To Light

Just another “from the stimuli” poem. An Endecha Title: To LightWC: 67 Blue settles, eerie, on snowThe swift-setting sun gives chaseWe breathe, our bodies hollow,In the distant dark, hills and valleys embrace A sailboat of brittle leavesGathers the clouds of our sighsAnd cuts across hungry wavesKnife blade ripples follow, scattering goodbyes Who can hide for long behindRusty waterfalls of…

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Write the Songs 2025: Song #1—Help You Hide the Bodies

I am . . . like three years behind on uploading rough recordings and documenting songs, so I am just trying to dive in. I was thinking maybe I’ll start with this—Song #1 of 2025 and I’ll hunt up Song #1 of 2024 and Song #1 of 2023 (I think Song #1 of both 2022 and 2021 are already up? I’m sort of afraid to look.) The assignment was a song to a friend having a tough time. The only other…

https://mtzqwrites.wordpress.com/2025/01/17/write-the-songs-2024-song-1-help-you-hide-the-bodies/

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Write the Year 2025—Week 2: Passing, Strange

A poem. A Bragi, in fact. I’ve been trying to be more intention about “filling the well,” so each day, I’m adding to a note on my phone that I’ve just called “Stimuli.” It’s making me notice that I’m not noticing non-visual things, for the most part, and I’m trying to make an effort to do so. This came together out of the effort so far. Title: Passing, StrangeWC: 64 A shadow swings—slick,…

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Write the Year 2025—Week 1: The Offering

A true-adjacent story to kick off the year. Title: The OfferingWC: 750 The offering had survived the abduction intact, if not exactly unscathed, only to lose one chipped gold hoof to the first hard frost. She’d maintained her dignity a good, long while, though, holding her head high and looking ever into the distance from her perch on the mossy, rotting log. The offering had survived the…

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Write the Year 2024—Week 52 (Belated): Italy Day 1—Outward Bound

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Write the Year Week 51 (Belated): Ragazza Errante

I’m still behind, so this is really last week’s entry. Another inspired by the trip to Italy and Banksy’s Migrant Child in Venice. This is an Atarlis Fileata. Title: Ragazza ErranteWC: 46 Hold aloftOne small handYour skin, once softHas learned the world’s lessonsChildhood’s spell wears offOne small handHold aloft Vapor trailDancing, uncertain pinkSlowly vanishing, each detailMeant to fade like…

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Write the Year 2024—Week 50 (Belated): Le Scarpette

So I am a week behind (going to have to try to shove something in midweek), and this is a silly Haiku Sonnet about the first meal of the vacation that has just ended for me. I was savoring the last of the simple, but amazing sauce on my meal and the waiter moved to take my plate. I let out the cry of a wounded animal. He looked stricken and said something along the lines of “Oh, no! Le scarpette”…

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Write the Year 2024—Week 49: Late-Night Talkshit

This is a very dumb Minute Poem about insomnia. Not even my insomnia, but a circle-of-hell text chain with my siblings about my mother’s insomnia. Basically, I am now trapped 24/7 in one of the shitty supposed-to-have-been-a-solution-but-deeply-fucked-me-up-way-worse-than-I-was-before-I-ever-sought-a-solution-and-I-will-never-even-get-back-to-before-I-got-fucked-up-by-it sessions. So.…

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Are you listening to TAH still? I think you’d like marshal no more

Definitely still listening to TAH. In fact, did a "comfort re-listen" of each of the series in order this past year. Loved Marshal no More!

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Write the Year 2024—Week 48: Scene From Above

This is very (very) loosely a response to this poetry prompt from Poets & Writers. I’m fairly dumb about visual art (ironic, given where I ply I my trade), but I was thinking about The Floor Scrapers, and Caillebotte in general, as an important piece to me for reasons having more to do with a loved one who is not dumb about visual art and who made me tag along to an exhibit of Caillebotte’s work…

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Write the Year 2024—Week 47: Hive. Nest. Home.

An Anduo this week. I love this time of year, right down to the forlorn images that are everywhere. That’s all. Title: Hive. Nest. Home.WC: 85 Tatters. Shreds. Flutters from a place, instinct builtNo more underbelly silver for your guiltThis thing you think of as nowhereSturdy as tissue-paper planets in rainLonely as back-fence roses blooming with painBending. Aching. Too much to bear. Like…

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Write the Year 2024—Week 46: Eurydice Reconsiders

Um. What can I say. I had kind of a dark idea for a short story and I turned it into an American Sentence Poem, which is what I do whenever I am especially lazy and behind. Title: Eurydice ReconsidersWC: 176 I have notonceassumed thatyouwould missme,even a little bit. I am no childhiding in the closetwaiting forMother’s regret. I have letthe scarf slip,the sleeve fall back,and the bruiseshave…