Category: dVerse
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dVerse: Name of the Rose is Sylvia
Sylvia Says … in my dreamsI am quietaerialfull of secrets and my eyesare opensleep is thin and light.Dreams, too light of promise. And don’t tell your secretsto a dream, she says.Rearrange them like featherslike a madness. Sylvia saysher dreams are starved eyesthat stoleall her secrets. And Sylvia believesthe world is flat. for dVerse “Name of…
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dVerse Quadrille #150: Chalk
The Crumbling Chalk Cliffs of Sussex I’m standing hereon this wind-swept headland,parts of it worn awayby Atlantic storms.Torn.Renewed.Replaced.Time-slips into geography.It’s old bones behaving badly,these crumbling chalk cliffs.It’s the nation’s chalkboardto all those who sail ourindistinguishable thoughtsbetween words. dVerse Poets: Written for De’s #150 44-word Quadrille, including the word Chalk, and Twiglet #275 “word of words” ©Misky…
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5.04.22 dVerse Quadrille Season
Forgive Me Your Plums In the tight centre offlesh pressing its flesh,a rough skin stone waitsin this small yellow plum.It inspires poetry, it’s cold,straight from the icebox.It’s the season for Post-it notes,for sweet plums whose stonesare tight-wound in its rug. Written for dVerse Poets, Quadrille Monday. Inspired by William Carlos Williams,”This Is Just to Say”…
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dVerse Haibun Monday
A View of the Cherry Tree in Moonlight The cherry tree is kissed by moonlight, it wakes as I sleep, as silver slides between its limbs, as my heart gently knocks against my ribs like uneven stairs. It wakes me from soundlessness and breathing, and even in first hours after midnight, I see moonbeams spread…
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Sidestepping
SIDESTEPPING (poem form: Synchronicity) I can parse a crowd and walk rightthrough it, but now I live in thisvillage with its uneven pavements andnarrow framed walls, and it’s filled withpolite people who deferentiallystep aside, nod with forensicsurvey, and when the cobbles slip intoquiet dusk and low hung street lampsfill the air, and night comes into…
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23.03.22 dVerse Colours
Tea With Florence It wasn’t her real namebut if I had named her,her name would’ve been Florence. Her skin was as paleas proper writing paper.Paper from Florence, undoubtedly. We sat in her garden,the magnolia blossomshanging on a last heavy scent before spring pulledgreen out of its limbs,transforming it into a proper tree. Florence drank mint…
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A dVerse Quadrille
Living In Our Skin Packed lunch and tea.Today it’s spring. These days passfaster than starched clouds, as fast as sea airhowling in its shroud. We feel sharp as papertouched by fresh air. And we bring homeblushed cheeks, seashells,and sand in our shoes. written for dVerse Quadrille “Paper”. Image from Unsplash. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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16.03.22: dVerse Hats
It and I My favourite hat smelled of quiet sun,but it is past tense now. It pains me to saythat a gust caught it on the lake, and it floated off to a nether realm.It and I shall never go picking strawberries in Wexfordnor blackberrying like Sylvia did. For dVerse Poets, Hats. Image is from Flickr Commons, National…
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dVerse Quadrille #147
Her Dark Eyes Her eyes are pure stars,her memories too whole, … of watching ducklingsstruggle after their mother, … of watching oak seedshelicopter aimlessly through air, … of rain floodinga bird’s nest, and they think her madwhen she says this worldwill break your heart. for dVerse Poets, Quadrille #147 “Eye”. Image Portrait Of A Woman With Dark…
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03.03.22 dVerse Ekphrastic Poetry
A Poem Inspired By Joseph Farquharson’s Painting A Slip Against the Wind The sky is whiteas pork fat, the heatherburnt by cold.A mother and three bairninch steps against the wind.March on, their mother says,March until it’s spring.A mother and three bairnare a slip against the wind. for dVerse Poets Ekphrastic March prompt. Featured painting is by Joseph…
It's Still Life 