“Poetic Cookies” and “The Art of Stickmanship”

By Carly Svamvour

Poetic Cookies

I take the words
gathered throughout the days
and put them in a bowl.

Add the conflict,
unsifted, unrationalized
and lightly mix.

Names meted out
in tablespoons, teaspoons,
half-cups for the major players.

Cinnamon walks in under the name
of Jackie; Randolph enters
bearing small cloves.

Rosie always comes by the full
cup, accompanied by some egghead
or other, anticipating the bind.

A few nuts? Perhaps.

The Art of Stickmanship

Tall maples bring memories of childhood when
we took more notice of them after the city hacked
them down. Tree forts & other forms of stickmanship
were the delight of many an autumn afternoon.


We settled for nothing but the best.


As I grew up, relationships, jobs I got from temp
agencies didn't work out well - I stayed home,
where my children didn't mind my words - marriage
was often disturbed terrain where weeds flourished.



Sometimes I settled for less.

Now fallen limbs and scrawny fingers of summers'
past are crumbling to dust alongside the old
fence. My first attempts at stick sculpture fail;
sometimes the muse demands too much.


Now? I settle for wood chips.

Carly says (in limerick form, no less):

“To see all her pomes and small pieces
Just Google and click with your meeces;
You'll find puzzling entree's
And some word games displayed
No immediate plans for a thesis.”

Also: “Click here for Carly's online writing workshop: http://wildcity.proboards14.com/”