@literarypug@mastodon.world
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literarypug

@literarypug@mastodon.world

Lit·er·ar·y Pug /ˈlidəˌrerē puhg/ rearranging words, watching 𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒 🐶#poetry #5amwritersclub🐶 Editing 2023 poems. Life is Star Trek. Be mindful.

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literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

The room where all
forgotten ideas go,
size unknown.

Undulating expand,
wavering contract?

Or fixed geometry.

Ideas increase,
crowding ensues.
Lost poems fuse with
unseen plans,
pressure, collapse.

Black hole, or biggest
bang, and creativity
every where
every when




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

We can numb it with
ice. It might take time.
But o’clock we’ve got.
And at absolute zero,
frozen stares and
charges flow in pairs,
with even the halting
halted on stairs, and
hate might as well
be a popsicle stand
and it’s loving
standing still,
by the way.




literarypug, to poetry
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“Today couldn’t have
been better!”
-some guy down the hall.

“Two thumbs enthusiastically up!”
-a chimp in the zoo

People and animals will soon cheer for today, promising to be the best day of the series yet.

Run, don’t walk, to today.
It’s playing all day.
Every day.
In a life, near you.




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Sunrise is just a suggestion.

Calibration Services Inc
will do the hard work.

Morning stabbing you
in the retina?

Today’s din at skull
frequencies?

We’ve got you covered!

From full head wraps to
calibrated life dampening
we end life encroachment.

We avoid living, for you!




literarypug, to poetry
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You get to travel
really far. But first
you had to be
transmogrified
to ash and gas,
and some of your
atoms will reach
escape velocity
and fall back into
the sun. It was
borrowed material
anyway, and fine
free Someday
was a good day
for returns anyway.




literarypug, to poetry
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3D printing everything,
copying it bit by bit.
Filament is made from
bits of real world”,
the ad says. The duplicate
will be indistinguishable
from the original. My
evil plan is afoot. I
don’t worry about
fidelity. My
predecessor
didn’t either.
Evil hands wring
“muahahah.”




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Happiness and adversity,
how can they coexist?
Perhaps they overlap as
Happversity and Adness,
or maybe they’re mutual.

Adversity killed the
monster and Happiness
ate it, and with a little
protein, Happy realized
the secondary
nature of smiling.

Thus indigestion
was born.
.
#5amwritersclub #poetry #poet
#poetrycommunity #writer
#writingcommunity #poem
#poetrylovers #poems #amwriting #smallpoems

literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Someone stuck forever
in the junk drawer, and
now it’s knotted.

There’s a charging cord
to who knows what.

And he’s silent.

Quarks ride the backs
of pedantic turtles,
snapping reins as they
prepare to untangle.

Chapstick. Lots.

I shut the drawer and
leave it open
uncertain

#5amwritersclub #poetry #poet
#poetrycommunity #writer
#writingcommunity #poem
#poetrylovers #poems #amwriting #smallpoems

literarypug, to poetry
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Your world is a
20 x 20room.
The walls are
blank, nondescript.

You note a
general soreness
in your right hand.

Clothing seems to have
been optional this AM.

You hold a sieve in your
left hand.

There is a pear and pez.
Take a pear and pez? (Y/N?)

The sieve is greying out.

#5amwritersclub #poetry #poet
#poetrycommunity #writer
#writingcommunity #poem
#poetrylovers #poems #amwriting #smallpoems

literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Said goodbye to
Normal Alan’s
sleep patterns.

He said I could
borrow them. At
first I was grateful.

But appears their
predation on my
regular rhythms

has subsumed
what was, and left
the blinds open.

A wake is scheduled
at 4am. Thoughts
and prayers.




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Silence has a
tremor to it
a tremble like
a quiet cold. I
wish I could move
fast like that
all the time or
make myself
gigantic with
massive
goosebumps.
But super speed or
growth are for
cool kids and I
get a preview while
freezing in the quiet,
cupped hand, ear.

#5amwritersclub #poetry #poet
#poetrycommunity #writer
#writingcommunity #poem
#poetrylovers #poems #amwriting #smallpoems

literarypug, to poetry
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The art of persuasion
in a world of infinite
is that the ant can
always shove the
rubble down the hill
and blame the gravity
of the situation.
And Sisyphus will
never see the ant’s
mandibular snicker
as he WTFs. But he
knows the agent of
his distress

#5amwritersclub #poetry #poet
#poetrycommunity #writer
#writingcommunity #poem
#poetrylovers #poems #amwriting #smallpoems

literarypug, to poetry
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Just show up every day. Not to hold humanity in contempt. Trust me, humanity already knows its flaws and chooses to ignore. Just show up to create. Consistency is the diatribe against the night. It is the canyon where a river once flowed.

#5amwritersclub #poetry #poet
#poetrycommunity #writer
#writingcommunity #poem
#poetrylovers #poems #amwriting #smallpoems

literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Fanning pages
made a breeze,
a butterfly in 1369
chrysalis-emerged,
and I exhaled. Their
overlap vertex
was chosen
as a site for no
thing, and is
considered one
of the lesser known
anomalies. It’s
documented
here for
posterity.




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Start a new one.
It could have been
a blue one. I hope
it’s a read one, well
is dead and begin
now and how now
brown cow if you’ll
allow, next stanza

will be all about the
jump around, not over
moons with all these
energies probably
coulda shouida woulda
and blue was
maybe best




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

I’m shrinking from
the reduction, reducing
from deduction. In
fact I’m adding where
you’re subtracting.
Everything from this
point onward will be
documented to the
nanosecond, expanded
in time frivolously and
without extra pay.
A ditch that rejects
its dirt, even
with receipt.




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

That moment I can
fall into, this time when
my eyes drip, half shut
half then after again ,
asymptotically
approaching
closed.
And in that
time of falling
through solids,
existential crisis
takes a back seat
to ice and mercury
who were always
waiting, patiently.




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Just be me, just
a tree, with a path
and a brook, and
infectious shade
that cajoles you
into smiling. At me.
At that tree.
And my only
eccentricitree
is you am you
and me am me,
and I’m working
on ambulating,
but evolution
takes time.




literarypug,
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

@Uair you are true brew.

literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Now I see all I think,
the day before.

It arrives in a magazine
to which I did not subscribe.

My most unsure and unique
thoughts are printed as pulpy asides and second thoughts.

How dare they do me,
before I think me! Table of
contents for one, please.

Edited




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Treading on toast points,
stepping carefully, ensuring
marmalade impressions
aren’t anew. Reuse the
sticky paths from ago.
Feet going “schmuck”
in and out of deep
depressions. “Why, that
imprint alone is decades old.
Preserve the
landmark!”. What a
jam.




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Some writers write
and believe they right.
Some wrong, but
trust unseemly
scenes and tryst
with untrue truths.
“Oh my, look
at me, the laureate
deserves acclaim!”
branding with great
self aggrandizing
prognostication,
in arrears. Pulling
a daisy before it
wilts on the asphalt.




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

A remarkable .com
we’ve had, and I
think back to the
day we hired each
other, all fidgety and
cotton-mouthed in
the interviews. For a
while it was water
bubblers and break
room antics. Then
we trained our own
team. New product
launches always.
Did we before @?




literarypug, to poetry
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

Precedes
(it’s a living):

“Why come?

“Acuz the dumb truck
and the avalanche
driver accidented. We
need a bull dozer”

(rrrrrRrrmb)

effective civil
project engineering
of dessicated
driveway dust and
crushed cigarette butts




RobertDaleParker, to Massachusetts
@RobertDaleParker@mstdn.social avatar

Yes, it’s a crummy picture. Blame the photographer (me) and the weather, but this is Emily Dickinson’s house in and Dickinson wrote her behind that window at the upper left.

Literature

literarypug,
@literarypug@mastodon.world avatar

@RobertDaleParker love this picture and thank you.

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