Category: dVerse
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30.10: dVerse Haibun
A Samhain Haibun On Samhain night she lit a single candle in the kitchen window, the way her grandmother had taught her: a flame for the ones who still wander. The air smelled of apples and smoke; the world had gone thin at the edges, and she thought she heard the old woman’s tread across…
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23 Sept: dVerse Quadrille
Petals (a Quadrille in an Imagist poem form) Petals, arabesque and swaying.Petals, brimming as bright asa morning star. Petals soft as scented heaven.Petals’ sorrow plucked for joy. “Loves me-loves me not,” criedpetals on black-eyed, doom-dark eyes—petalled tongues whispering. Petals witheron the ground.Petals the scytheforgot. Written for dVerse Poets Quadrille (44-words) in an Imagist poem form. Some artwork…
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16 Sept: dVerse Prosery
Sulphur and Silence The city never learned how to be quiet — Elias liked it that way; the noise smothered his wife’s laugh. He sat in his worn armchair, the one she always called a mistake, watching the world blur past his third-floor flat. The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes moved…
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9 Sept: dVerse Quadrille
So Much Between So much dependson the moon’s pale hinge,the way night folds its dark velvetover the day’ssharp edges. So much is still heldin the soft hush —the unsaid,the almost, the breath betweengoodnightand a dream’sfirst tender sigh. This quadrille (44-words, sans title) is written for Dee’s dVerse Poets Quadrille #231 “much”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney…
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2 Sept: dVerse Haibun
The Holding Breath To the 204 men and boys of the 1862 Hartley Colliery disaster — their breath drifts still, coal-dust caught in morning’s blacklung frost. They crawled into the narrow seams where lanterns barely held back the dark, where the air strangled itself thin. We remember the steel-to-stone rhythm of their pickaxes, the hunger-click…
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26 Aug: dVerse Quadrille
Tumultus Mus Musculus (44-Word Quadrille) The mice throw a rumpus —wearing tiny top hats,and drinking whiskey from thimbles.They’re spinning a walnut, and waltzing on tables. But —are those cat’s eyesgleaming like diamondsthrough keyholes? Dance on, my darlings.Dawn wants to steal your shoes. Kim invites us at dVerse Poets to write a Quadrille #230 about a “rumpus” Some…
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12 Aug: dVerse Quadrille #229
Last Laugh of a Dandelion That little flower refused to shut up —jabbering of moon-drunk alley cats,tomorrow’s lost socks,and how the dark craves mischieflike a thief craves silvered moonlight.“Hush,” I pleaded, but it only laughed,“I’m a dandelionwho refuses to be a weed.” Soundtrack note: “Some flowers gossip in moonlight, some in mercy — either way,…
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23 July: dVerse Prosery
Equinox She was a daughter of light, yes — but even as a child, she watched the shadows move first. They gathered beneath her bed like cats. Flicked the candles when no wind stirred. Knew her name before she did. She tried to stay loyal to the sun. Woke early. A sunrise child. Let its…
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27 June: A Synesthesia Poem
A quiet space between threads, where what is left unspoken is stitched into the fabric of silence. Restless as a Second Skin (a synesthesia poem) The night isn’t black.It’s the textureof unfinished coffee,the sound of a clockchewing its minutes.Your bones humin the key of static,your nerves taste likealuminum foil.And your thoughts—they are the moon,its light…
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25 June: dVerse Poetics
Kintsugi for the Unfriend We were porcelain once—smooth to the touch,holding the lightlike a shared secret. Then the fracture:a word dropped,a silence grown too heavy,the map of usredrawn in fault lines. Now the gold comes—not to mend,but to make memoriesof what broke. Each lacquered seama testimony:Here is where we held.Here is where we learnedto let…
