- 87,658 hits
Tag Cloud of Limingaars poetica Audio Poem autumn beauty bird birds Buddhism cat clouds cold crow crows death depression desire dogs dream dreams fall fire flash fiction grief haiku haikus heart home kiss life light loneliness lost love love love poem lovers lust moon morning naked nature night nude ocean poem poema poet poetry poets Post by Voice rain Ray Sharp river sadness sex short poem short story skin sky sleep snow song sonnet spring stars star tattoos summer sun sunset tanka tattoo tattoos of stars time trees water wind winter
Copyright Notice© Ray Sharp and Bard of Liminga, 2008 to Present. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without written permission of the author and web site owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ray Sharp, Bard of Liminga and raysharp.wordpress. com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Tag Archives: ars poetica
From the Mayan creation story in the Popol Vuh, the first people were made of earth and mud, but they dissolved in water. The second people were made of wood, but they lacked mind and spirit. Then the animals gathered … Continue reading
Mars Poetica Posted on August 27, 2010 by Ray Sharp Howling at the moon is a poem pure. Scratching pencil to paper is another way, better than solving the crossword after a glass of red wine which is just the … Continue reading
Haiku 13.11 (Wolf Moon) Posted on January 28, 2013 by Ray Sharp Wolf tracks through deep snow follow the old cow moose down in gullied moonglow
Turning the layers, looking for clues In the archives, for repeated words Rolled between fingers and thumbs like worry beads, like phrases From dead languages recited until They become a kind of secret prayer, Then lo and behold I find these … Continue reading
Abalone, coastal fog, talk of tides. What is life but a rusty crab pot and a hundred poems unwritten? Told, untold, fold, unfold, like breathing. Open, close, like a book of souls.
It may have been Henry, or Gary, or Wendell, who said when you split firewood it warms you twice. And I once wrote a poem titled Twice Burned, a very different story. Sometimes you live it once, then again on … Continue reading