Category: dVerse
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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…
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This Might Be The Most Depressing Thing Ever Written
This Might Be The Most Depressing Thing I’ve Ever Written For pen. For paper. I fumble the nightto write these stammered words. I grievefor its loss. Its misuse. This deluded lightthat I might write, and pretend to believe myself poetic. A witless froth at any age,I know not grammar, my words are awaylike disjointed vertebrae.…
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For dVerse: Verse Epistle
We Always Said After the summer hadturned fields of cut wheatto brooms, and those littlegestures of rain beckoned to winter, and as we saton the dry October lawn,and said we’d always writeeach other fond letters of Dear dearest, and wordsfor wishing on falling stars,after all that, I’m sleeplessand feeling the drift of dark, and wondering…
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A dVerse Quadrille

I Am In The Shadow of highbrick archeswalls ofchipped stuccorendering heated dust rainingfrom bellspealing namesof vanished saintsand talesof moonstruckswallowscoaxed fromnesting cliffsswift as lighton wingsthat cutclouds and sky.our shadowswere justflutteringlips. for dVerse Poets, Quadrille Monday “Swift” and 44 words sans title. © Misky 2021 Image WikiCommons California State Archive. A poem based on recollections of a…
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For Twiglet #216

The Strong Arm Water He’s the strong arm of water.A river at night. We move around the fringe of fewand plenty words. Breathe hard as frozen rainthat sticks to skin. And we drain the river. written for Twiglet #216 and dVerse “Edges and Fringes” Image from Flickr, Creative Commons © Misky 2021
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dVerse Edges
Various Degrees of Blur My pencil whorls. Gone are the edges.The sharpness erased. Roof tileshide under moss. Stones hide the curve of hills. Grass flattensunder the weight of tyres. A shadow denies its edge. And my fingerspush back the second hand, as the hours spin. for dVerse Poets “Edges and Fringe” #1 & 2 ©…
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dVerse Haibun: Memory Lane
The Straight Of It It might’ve been 1952. Or 3. It was certainly summer. I remember wearing cotton shorts and a sleeveless top. It’s hot. The sun stings my arms. I’m barefoot, walking on a narrow brick path that always feels cool and slightly wet against my toes. It leads from the back door down…
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for Miz Quickly’s What the Dog Did
Contradictions I am an upended apple cartI am the cider I am neither sweet, nor sour,but I do bite I fill a glass half fullI am the balance, half emptied I am many people to othersI have been no one but myself I was once youngI will never be too old I once thought I…
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dVerse Quadrille #122
Quite Right Slick Days It’s one of thosequite right slick days. Palms sway their great shoulders,and waves curl, crash and bangtheir weight against my legs. And then I wake up,and it’s still winter. I just want to drive,and keep on going until lunchtime. Image is Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden Of Earthly Delights. Written for dVerse Poets, De’s Quadrille #122…