Category: dVerse
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dVerse Animals
To Love a Rabbit Rabbit, my Rabbit,we each are one.You and I from thatfirst time drawn. You needed an expanse of sea.I needed to see the moon, but we’re surrounded byourselves, and invisibleto time. We need noin-between. No dance. We eat strawberries on drawing paper.We grow flowers for their scent. Your footsteps are pressedin a…
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Day 9: NaPoWriMo 2021
for I.) dVerse Body and Poetry. My “degradation” is single eye AMD, I. A Slow Degradation It’s hanging silentthat moon.It keeps ignoring you, in the forest,on a hill,shrouded in clouds. I’m blinded by sight. Sightless, butthe truth I…
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Day 7 NaPoWriMo 2021
I.For dVerse Poets: The Insomniac This girl wants a slow dying light,a shallow moment within herself.She extinguishes brightness, a joyous dark rise from the scentof deep sleep. A fall into slowness. To wake from dreams is to be reborn.Candles snuff out their light tothe high rising morning sun, andyou’ll hear her cry of defeat as shewishes…
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Day 6 NaPoWriMo 2021
Quadrille IIa.It’s Just a Matter of Taste Wine, its taste is notparticularly kind.Its nose I cannot fathom.Why someone wouldwish to sipa liquid that tastesof pennies orshades of chamois clothor remind one’s noseof a well-worn saddle.Well, wine, it’s just not for me. Twiglet 221 IIb. It’s Not You So toast me, Roast me with your wine.…
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dVerse Laundry
Laundry Day Hand into his pocket, pulled it inside out, and she found the note she’d written him. One small jarof peanut butter,please,to replace the oneyou emptied – This is just to say it’s a pity that youdidn’t tell me,becausemy toast was justa smear of jam. Love you more than William Carlos Williamsloves his plums. for…
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dVerse Blossoms
March 29: A firestarter returns us spring. I breathe the air. I breathe the sky. It’s a cherry blossom’s wild sunset dance out of winter. A burner against April’s pale blue. A garland for the clouds. The sky is leaking warmth and bees, and this worn soul wants to live again. ruby throated springfrom powdered…
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Overlooked Margins
Small Flies and Other Wings There in the overlookedmargins of the windowsill, unpaired wings and websof grey lace and dust aredefused by the sun’s stare. Wings lay mutilated likesome mental disturbance, brushed by darkness andsideslipped in the wake ofa free-hand or brushed breath. They’re gathered into the wetgrasp of a cleaning cloth, and their fragments…
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for dVerse Quadrille #124
Who Knew I pull out a green shoot, hoping it’s a weed. One year, I pulled outmost of the poppy seedlings, thinking they were weeds. Opium poppies, so I am told. And there next to the weedsis a worm – tied in a knot. for dVerse Poets Quadrille #124 “knots”Photo by Bruno Figueiredo on Unsplash. Shared with @Experimentsinfc…
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dVerse’s Being Human
Being Human This being human isa glance over your shoulderto see if the pastis catching up with you. Other days, it’s a drudgerythat lingers on your handsas a stain or an odour. It’s a search for wordsin the pit of your stomachthat feel odd in your mouthwhen spoken. Sometimes, it’s when rainsmells like mould insteadof…
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dVerse Prosery: 16 March 2021
The Stick All winter that limb hung there as if baffled by gravity’s indecision, and sometime between dark and daylight it fell from the sky and plunged to the earth. The white beechwood bark peeling, and curling back onto itself, lichen-poxed, and laying in the mud-soaked grass like a diseased long bone. It’s what my…
