Parker Owens

You and Gary have got me blushing. I am so very glad you liked these. Cinquain, whether in its simplest form, or in its variations, still let's the poet play with rhythm and thought, all condensed to essentials. The thread of these is clear enough, and you have hit upon it exactly. I am so very grateful you continue to read these Occasional poems, and I thank you humbly for your comments.

How wonderful that these seem brewed perfectly for your cup. That they appeal to you has made my day. The Cinquain form has some attractive attributes for a numbers guy, but also for the poet. And I am happy that their messages are meaningful to you, too. Many thanks for your comments, and glad you continue to read my offerings.

Thank you so much Emi. You are right about the idea of fulfillment and completion being the thing that holds these together, I am glad these spoke to you.

Thank you, AC for this accompaniment to Live Poets. I am unsure of how to add videos to a post. However, here is a link to one of my very favorite pieces by Francois Couperin. In many ways, it was far ahead of its time. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JeJClooBYqY

Mechanic Broken past all repair, my pieces strewn like shards scattered on a limitless floor, until you came painstakingly reassembling the fragments, machining new parts, making me whole. Weaver Your arms bind all my thin strands tightly together, like rough thread teased from carded wool, and dyed to make, in weft and warp, a tapestry of love prized above all other dazzling design.

Daniel got cornered in the showers. You paint the gut wrenching and terrorizing scene very well. It doesn't matter that he really is gay, as Loz suspected, he doesn't want Loz, and that makes Loz an attacker. Enough to make anyone puke, repeatedly. I think this reaction is perfectly natural. So poor Daniel gets carried off to the nurse by the one boy Daniel fancies, and he can't remember any of it. The clouds are getting darker and stormer. Any of the possible paths Daniel might take at this point would lead to conflict and hurt. Why do I suspect you will choose the roughest path for him?

Normal week, for Nick, means trying desperately not to crush on Peter, who is equally captivated. Or at least it seems that way to me. Liked this chapter.

Wow. Not your typical Zombie story. I really love the way you ratchet up the emotional energy so effectively and swiftly. Gotta love the Pepsi as Zombie repellant. Never knew that: have there been tests run to see if it works better than Coke?

Donny finally found a way to mess it all up...vodka. David is already a mess, and hurt Twoey badly into the bargain. He pretty much spent the day hiding out from himself, and even a one sided conversation with his seagull psychologist didn't do much. I noted that Twoey did not get a chance to invite David to the party. The party to which all of David's friends are invited...but now, not him. Who is David going to wind up with? Donny by default? Matty by chance? Erik by disaster? Or simply drifting away on his own by choice? Time to get out the black tints. You have done a very good job painting David's mental state in progressively darker colors, contrasting these with Twoey's brighter, varied tones. Have gotten out my character voodoo dolls, and purchased extra pins.

What I see you building is a net of relationships which might just catch a falling boy. Or could I be wrong about that? In any case, your character illustrations are quite vividly drawn. You convey information without being too prosy. Well done. Now how about another chapter, please?

No worries about any delays in the story. This was a wonderful snapshot in and of itself; your dialogue is crisp and revealing without being forced. You can write like this anytime!

Thank you for responding so honestly, Emi. New Developments referenced Coleridge's famous poem, 'In Xanadu, did Kublai Khan a stately pleasure dome decree..." And so it comments on how what was once a great wonder could be bulldozed for cheap suburban sprawl. My list of guests invited to my dreams could vary widely from night to night. Perhaps in my slumbers, I will see all my poet friends, too.

Yes, 'Luxury Patio Homes' are the thing hereabouts these days. Unfortunately, they seem to pop up everywhere. But a bit of humor on a dark subject sometimes makes it bearable. No, neither Wagner not Tchaikovsky are favorites, but they would have made fascinating conversation...thanks for reading these and hope they shortened your bus ride.

And sometimes I feel like the drought itself....it is a great metaphor, too.

But only to wake, and soon your muse will keep you busier than you can know...beautifully written, Dugh. I love it.

I wondered if I was getting ready for a new thing. It will be worth checking out Ballade. And I am glad you liked these; your inspiration made it so very easy!

Me, too. And I have looked out over fields like that, counting Killdeer, only to have them turned into parking lots...you are so kind to read and react to these. Thanks a million.

There is a spot nor far from where I live that used to be a wide, green field. Last week, the earth movers arrived; it is to become a storage parking lot for a car dealer. A travesty, if ever there was. That must have run in my subconscious as I wrote New Developments. Don't I wish I could entertain like that in my dreams, though. Many thanks to for comments and reaction.

Your recent 'Reflections' piece hooked me, and the urge to be witty in verse took hold. Glad you liked the guest list, as it could have gone on and on...for some reason I woke up with the word Xanadu running in my head, and the early morning hours were spent wrestling with possibilities. But it is kind of sobering, as you say. Many thanks for your inspiration and kind remarks.

Invited Guests If in my dreams I could receive some visitors of wider scope, perhaps I'd choose to spend an eve with Dante or a Borgia pope, or dine with wise daVinci, though I'd rather Michaelangelo. In Morpheus' salon I'd choose a guest list of the rarest sort; try chatting with Lautrec, Toulouse (I never guessed he was that short), and laugh aloud at wit Francaise, or argue music with Varese. My slumbered houseguests overflow, spill out into the lawn to play; see Dali dally with Van Gog

Gotta feel for Billy. But how has that ball team stayed together at all? Hope his anger with Brett doesn't ruin their friendship...

Nice to see David and Twoey spending time alone together, even if it's hard for them. David doesn't appear to be able to be what either Twoey or Donny need right now. He himself is the one who is most needy. Adults disappearing? Note to David's Dad...no! You have an emotionally fragile son processing painful and serious issues. You have to be present to him. Period. That David's fault lines should be showing now is understandable. Crack and fractures in his mind appear everywhere, as the seismic stress on his psyche must be tremendous...Donny, Twoey, Burch, church, Danny, parental loss, self revelations...if David holds it together, it would be a miracle. And Dad wants to leave David in charge of Tommy? Criminal. And so I wonder if David's father isn't merely clueless....sorry. I promised to stop speculating. I swear.

Oh, wow, how I like this unadulterated silly poem! Your fishing metaphor is apt and perfectly employed. Loved the idea of catching and matching vowels, deciding whether or not to throw words and phrases back or keep them...brilliant! And the end bit about freeing Willy....at my age, I rarely roll on the floor laughing, but in your case, I made an exception. Thank you for this lovely diversion...

Happy Birthday, Rambling Mann, Of your stories, I'm a fan! Hope your day is full of cheer, May you write another year! Happy Birthday!

A very interesting and compelling medium in which to discuss vital issues. Who says fiction doesn't speak truth?