Month: May 2016
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An Etheree for dVerse
Toast The air seems distant, no landscape to see. Dusty purple greys the hills. The sky breaks out in argument with weather as air holds warm and motionless. It’s one of those simple things, like walking through fire to toast some bread. written for Victoria’s dVerse Etheree prompt of building a geometric shape…
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Three More Ryūka Poems
Three Variations on a Ryūka I. I made wishes on mindless stars The full moon pulling song from me But words died in my throat that day My face was stained with tears II. A robin’s singing to me Such a sturdy song A simple summer memory A sharp and broken tone III. The sun…
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Miz Quickly’s Chesty Birds
Sometimes there’s no starting point, you’re in the middle of it all before you realise it started, and someone said that a storm was blowing in, but until it’s hanging right overhead, that storm is somebody else’s storm, somebody else’s problem. So we sat on the floor, drawing flowers and pressing plants on writing paper,…
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dVerse’s Character Study
And Run Same time, every day. She runs. I’m finishing the breakfast dishes, up to my wrists in hot soapy water, and there she goes, she’s a shot of sun. Her red hair’s often a shapeless flame, but today it’s tied up in a brass knot – and she runs. I’d love to run that…
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The 10th Word for Miz Quickly
for Miz Quickly’s Aspirational ten words. This is the tenth: neighbor. Or alternatively: neighbour. Again, an American Sentence with 17 syllables.
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9 Out of 10 Cats are American Sentences
The stars fall out of heaven and they sting the night with a thousand bees. That brisk trumpet-voice is an ocean’s heart, the song of infinite tides. The day is weary and undone, and we whisper clear our doubtlessness. We watched the sky turn to smudged light, and asked questions of its sorceries. The wax…
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dVerse Quadrille 9
It’s Deeper Than Skin We are each other’s skin, an inherited thorn touched by lineage, memory’s echo. Soft as silk, as green is to spring. I sleep in quilted flesh. I dream to breathe, my heart; its voice. Skin … my moral default when I wander far and flooded. for dVerse. Quadrille…
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Sunday Whirl #251
The Perfection of Pine It’s May. Enter the flowers, and the perfection of pine. The boys are by the lake – it took days for that fish to take the bait. And a perfect silk of clouds screen the burn of the sun, the hours hung slow, though less we couldn’t have cared. I remember…
It's Still Life 