Category: dVerse
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dVerse Poetic Travels
Travelling in the Wilderness You can never read too much into anything.That’s what my granny Nne Nne says.She opens up the newspaper, and pointsher poppy red fingernail at some words. See here, she says, all words need spaces,a buffer for safety, it’s so those conflictingwords don’t bash into each other. And now I’m thinking of…
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Quadrille #117
Out of the Fog Comes the sun.it’s a clutch of warmth,a canopy suspendedover winter’s muscle.the sun abides in cheeks of roses,and on tensiled tailsof a comet.bright as a smile after sex.the horizon isNovember.licked and kickedby the sun. Miz Quickly’s Day 30 and dVerse Quadrille #117 “Abide” © Misky 2020
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24 November 2020
Haibun: Blown Home I remember the wind as grape-skin smooth as it flowed through the window. It lifted the voile panels — inhaling and exhaling time. The grandfather clock, I turned its key daily, and its oaked-box voice ticking solid and deep, geared-teeth grinding away at our eternity. That wind always came out of the…
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dVerse Jisei Poems
Four Japanese Jisei Poems I.my wishful lookyou have buried, lock and keyin this folly home of neglect and blame,fortune, you are thrown II.winter finds its return,spurn this gold and gilt,into damp cobwebs spun III.leaves, prey of the worm,nature neitherrich nor poor,but proudis the creature living IV.her red veil hairand green eye squinta devotion ofdistintested warmthher…
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dVerse Eyes
Age Related One day these eyeswill be boarded up windows,only seeing the grey sideof sunspots.They water and drift on a halfhidden stain across a viewfrom where each day begins. dVerse “Eyes” © Misky 2020 Image Flickr Commons
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dVerse Double Quadrille #116
Impossibly Out of Reach One sunny Sunday, his grandad gave him50-pence for the church offering.He pocketed it.And that’s where it stayed.Until Friday.Which was laundry day.He took the coin from the pocketof his Sunday best trousers,and as he reached for his pink plastic piggy bank,the coin slipped from his fingersand fell between the floorboards.A flash of…
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dVerse Witnesses #2
A Taste of Village Life The village hall just renewed the notice board. Free. Needs clean but structure sound: 2 seater sofa.Free. Garage storage rack. Unused.Free. Brand new iron. electric kettle. 2 slot toaster.Free. Set of cricket wickets with bails.Free. Empty helium tank.Free for collection: 38 mugsFree: 1/2 tin matte emulsion colour Botanical ExtractAny tree…
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dVerse Witness
In the Same Way an Algebraic Equation Can A morning walk can empty my brain.I am walking my customary route, past the oak tree, its acorns rollingunderfoot like marbled pebbles ona Sussex beach. Oh how I love delicate batter fried codand sharp stinging sea air in my lungs. Holly berries, pressed into bursts of red,and now…
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dVerse Prosery
The Drowning of Capel Celyn A village gone. Into dark stillness that roots it to its soil. It lies weed-hung with the fish. It is too deep to feel the weight of a wave, or to hear a lamb’s bleat. It sleeps where it died in a purple silt. The store. The church. The butchery…
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Twiglet #201 and dVerse Quadrille
When I Was 10 Summer’s the shortest season.Flew by. I flew by. Out the door. Mum shouting, “Don’t slam the screen door!” I’d chase distance. Up hills.A curse on my long bones. I’d walk the old silver mine’s rusted tracks,and my freedom knew happiness. dVerse Quadrille “Happiness” and Twiglet #201 “Weedy Rail Tracks” © Misky…
It's Still Life 