"Spring" in New England

In like a lion, out like a limerick

In like a lion, out like a lamb. Right? Today is March 31st (the “out like a lamb” part), and we woke up to sleet tapping the windows and freezing rain slicking up the drive in a gray slushy mess. Then there was some snow, and a bit of rain, which I guess was April…

Skipping stones

In my pocketses

in this pocket of silence we keep our words (from Three Ways of Searching) March has been a very full pocket of silence overflowing like loose change… like stones for skipping across the surface of conversation. See, the thing is, when I have too much to say, it’s like a traffic jam. Nothing gets through.…

Lazo’s Limericks A-Muse

A-Musing Limericks By Andrew Lazo Down in Houston has come something new: She’s amassing a masterful crew. Holly fights for the Lord Foils false thoughts like a sword, With a faith-defence at HBU. In the Gulf, right across from the beaches, Doug quotes Bible and Bard as he teaches Lewis, Spurgeon, and lit, (Even dog…

Ancestral Verse: Exploring the Limerick

by Crystal Hurd Call it the luck o’ the Irish that my muse is today, the ever-popular St. Patrick’s Day. Before I married my husband, I was a Sullivan. You really don’t get more Irish than that. According to family history, my ancestors moved here from Ireland in the 1870s. They settled among the lush…

DO Cross the Streams

I appreciate the timely and prescient advice of Dr. Spengler expressed in this clip from the 1984 movie classic Ghost Busters, particularly in the use of particle accelerators when battling ghostly hordes. Of course, in this context, crossing the streams would be… “bad.” However, when it comes to the daily battles most of us are likely…

There Once Was a Form Called the Limerick

This will not be an academic response, but just what I feel and think immediately after reading… works of poetry.  This is the direction Chief Muse Kelly had set for All Nine shortly before I came on board in 2012 – not to dissect and analyze poems, not to tie them to chairs and beat…

Winter words

A poem knows the truth is either one thing only or infinitely complex and inexplicable with a finite vocabulary. So it says the one true thing. Woods and snowfall roll out past sight - there you dig, here I watch your shadow

Sonnet: A Brief How-To

by Andrew Lazo I love sonnets, all the more due to how Malcolm Guite has single-handedly sparked a sort of formal revival amongst many of my friends and fellow Muslings by pouring forth such excellent examples of late. So yesterday whilst on a school bus full of flappy-birding freshmen, I decided to put their fogged-up…