Category Archives: Micropoetry

Beginning the Day

Beginning the Day

There are sounds,
but distant.
There are lights,
but little.
In whispers
of snow, wind,
the first bus
of morning
whirs to me,
opens its doors.


Erosion of Scales

bald patches on wings
show where butterflies have shed
the bloom of their youth

late Spring stars, pastel
green & cream, teeter over
a red passion point

the sunrise place shows
the price to be received, or
the price to be paid

fish for dinner means
the dull knife scrapes the wrong way,
scales fly everywhere

the indigo just
shed its skin, gleaming black-blue,
(dry, soft, tasting musk)

hairspray mists around
teased hair stripped roughly downward
for the school’s Spring play

dark surrounds the flame
of one lit candle, carried
by a voice singing,
its melody bent modal,
as it winds from old to new


Curling into a cocoon
of butter or fur.
Forget myelin is the skin
of my numb brain—
when it itches,
feel it everywhere
but where it is.

Myelin Challenge Poem

– PF Anderson, June 3, 2010

This poem was written in response to a challenge from the @MyelinRepairFdn on Twitter.


Making Visible (Momentile, debscott)

When shattering becomes
a thing of broken beauty,

(Momentile, debscott)

it is the very breaking
and brokenness
that reveals the heart,
the structure, the lovely lines,
the labyrinth of meaning
that once was whole and now
is visible.

(Momentile, debscott)

Nature wastes nothing.
Having unlearned this lesson,
people fumble with fragments
of the lost and leftover,
rags woven into
a kind of throne.

(Momentile, debscott)


Mariposa (Momentile, tinydancer)

mariposa, spread
your lashes, lips, your fine tongue
embrace the long line
hollowed with heat, memories,
opening to erasure

Momentile by tinydancer, caption by pfanderson

Tinydancer: Mariposa:

Dr. Omed’s Tent Show Revival: Momentile Monday – Mariposa:


“The gift giver, that old gnome” (Momentile, Coffeebee)

The gift giver, that old gnome,
Whose eyes hold the darkness of skies
And reflect back our own …

Santa's Eye

Original here:

Momentile here:

Many thanks to Coffeebee for permission to use her image in this post!


Fire Goddess (Momentile, Tinydancer)

Dr. Omed is an inspired paper collage artist who shares his work in Momentile. Momentile has become one of my favorite social media spaces.


This isn’t the space where I want to talk at length about why Momentile is interesting, so to keep it short, Momentile is basically a spinoff of the increasingly popular projects in various social media to post something every day for a month or a year. With Momentile, not more than once a day would be more accurate.

There have been a number of posts on this blog which originated as captions in Momentile on someone else’s photo, image, or work of art. Of those other artists, the one who I find most inspirational is Dr. Omed. I have captioned a number of his paper collages, and wish I had time to caption them ALL. This has been an amazingly productive and serendipitous “collaboration”.

In Momentile itself, you really can’t hold a conversation with the other artists – it requires oblique strategies to communicate. Luckily, Dr. Omed and I know each other in other social media spaces, which means he can post my captions on his blog and I can post his images on mine and both of us can ask permission and link back to each other’s work. Happy Days!

“P. F. Anderson has written vatic poem-captions for several of my ’tiles, and you may soon [see] more ’tiles and more of her lovely captions on the Tent Show (unless she says not).”
Today is 2 Men 13 Ch’en. Dr. Omed’s Tent Show Revival.

For the record, I am delighted! Especially if Dr. Omed will grant permission for me to share the caption / Momentile combinations here and in my Flickr stream as well, of course linking back to his original Momentile and his blogpost. Here is the first example of what I envision. I hope it is OK with him.

Momentile Caption: TinyDancer - Fire Goddess

The face of the fire goddess
swells with her aching,
dozens of her nipples leak
blood and cluster together.
Around her spin seconds
become hours and hours
become seconds,
as the air consumed
abandons both breath
and breathing.