Category: dVerse
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dVerse Does Halloween
Absolut This house with its bare walls and empty rooms and doors that slam behind you, and floorboards that groan and rise up to meet you under foot, that watches you with its wandering eye and hidden faces traced in windowpanes, and this house breathes rasping toothy sounds from up above and down below, a…
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dVerse Sounds
A Sweet Sparrow Tweet How can such sweet songcome from such dull coloured birds.Their striking bright rounded tones are sown in my memory to grow. Oh, pale morning, I hear from the tree,hidden in the deep greenery of leaves,a pip, a peep, a bleep, a trill and burst.O’ the bubbling squeak of it all. for Peter’s…
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dVersing Samual Greenberg
This Plain Grey Life We watched, prayed time’s chants,as the crimson leaves blew into his eternal six foot deep. I was wrapped in mourning clothes,comforted by a plain grey life, held my sorrow within my sorrows,within my creased and carded fleece,within my heart’s brow. A palmed rose tumbled on to his coffin,his memory kept with the skulls of…
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dVerse Quadrille #114
Magnetised the push and pullthe up and downthe rise and fallthe kiss the slapthe pain the cheerthe deafened earthe birth the deathtears for us berefta prayer a curseto hurt to heallonely daysand hearts grief-stricken dVerse Quadrille #114 “Magnet” © Misky 2020
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dVerse What3Words
Crisped All Around And then,the frost plunged into night, a driven knife down from the North. And by morning,the leaf-strewn ground had crisped and hoared here all around — T’was a proper penguin beach. written for dVerse using What3Words (frost.driven.proper = Penguin Beach at London Zoo) I also verbified the word ‘hoar’. © Misky…
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The Last Days of Summer: 1968
The clay soil here is ironware-hard. Dad, nevertheless, muscles and thrusts a long steel spike into it. It bounces like a pogo hopper. To break it up, he says. This, on the hottest day of any that I can recall, and he’s weighted a yellow sheet of grid paper under a stone that maps out…
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Dverse Lists
It’s Never Just Black and White Grey is a shape a mood to sleep to dreama blank canvas a precursor to black the colour of hope pressure-washed motes in light a eunuch’s cloak a mushroom huntmorels and caps is gray for some is a cloud a vapour a spirit a far-flung hill is never just black and…
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dVerse Gloomy Ballads
Where Music Stops She stood in the lee of heavy grief,as if lashed to a mast on a craggy reef.Sirens howled in her ear,and a month lingered to a year. Swallowed, some say, as she bedded gloom.Took herself to her darkened room.Took her heart, and buried it deep,and then fell into a long cold sleep.…
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dVerse Quadrille #113
THE SKY, THE LIGHT, MY BRAMBLES Octoberis autumn’s landscape. Early,its dark blanket covers night. Slowly,comes morning sky. A flaming jewel.Rolling ruby rivers of light. I woke,and sat on the edge of day, watchedthe black kettle night shy away. Shadows lift.Away my down-trodden brambles. Dverse Quadrille “blanklet” 44 words sans title. © Misky 2020
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for dVerse: A Vatic Poem
A Long Story About Nothing Maybe what I say seems commonplace, but rules are a self-audit, and I hardly suppose that any confession is too late, or that a germ of good might never growMaybe no one speaks with purpose,no single sentence is a human progressAnd I hardly suppose this life is a long story…
It's Still Life 