Prosetry

On my poetry blog, I posted two poems I wrote last week.

• Easy. Easy. on Friday, 4/05/18
• Earthen Vessels on Saturday, 4/06/18

Sometimes I have a difficult time labeling my pennings as "poems."
Is it a poem, a prose, or jabberwocky?

Jabberwocky brings to mind gibberish which brings to mind speaking in tongues.
Speaking in tongues brings to mind foreign languages.
Even if one doesn't understand the language, it is usually quite beautiful to listen to.
Every Way International believer speaks in tongues.
But not in the same style as in Pentecostal or Charismatic churches.

I think I probably pen more prose than poems.
Or perhaps I pen "prosetry" (long o & pronounced with three syllables, if you like).

Prosetry brings to mind trees and how they pose.
Which brings to mind a piece of miniature art painted on a miniature block that sits on my kitchen windowsill above the kitchen sink.
A spider has taken up residence outside the kitchen window, between it and the storm-window.
I see him daily.
Or maybe he is a her.
Spiders spin poetry, often between twigs and branches and limbs posing on tree trunks.

The Way was structured like a tree.
Root locales were the major Way properties where the research and dictates originated and were used as the main training grounds for The Way Corps.
Trunks were countries.
Limbs were states.
Branches were usually comprised of five to seven Twigs within a Limb.
Twigs were the individual home fellowships usually consisting of three to twenty believers.
Each believer was a Leaf.
And a healthy Twig always bore good fruit; if not, something was amiss.
The Way Tree was a poser, unlike the authentic pose of the authentic Trees of Earth.

This blog post might fall in a category of jabberwocky.

~tree woman on my window sill~