Category: dVerse
-
AprPAD: Day 21
Tabula Rasa There was a word in my head for all of this. Sunrise that greets another day. A farewell to night and sleeplessness. A dog dreaming in the sun. Dust rising, falling in the wake of your moods like flushed pink apple blossoms almost drowning. for dVerse Quadrille 102 Flush https://miskybr1.tumblr.com/post/616005135045410816/found-on-21-april/embed NaPoWriMo Day 21:…
-
dVerse Quadrille #101
Unravelling Without Explanation Draw closed your curtains in my dreams, where satin stones skip on shallow bones. Tongues of falling stars, they ignite spinning tunes that shelter tumbling notes. Pluck my ticking clock. Draw me close into your folds, come near and sit weary-sorrow next to me. dVerse Quadrille #101 “Close” ©️ Misky…
-
AprPAD: 2 April
SPACES I. There’s a small space on my desk where a calendar sits. It takes up the whole year. II. There’s a space between my teeth that used to catch bits of meat so I became vegetarian. III. Move over. Give me some space, and let me grow, said the acorn to the oak. A…
-
A Poem in the Style of Raymond Garlick
ON BOGNOR BAY A Poem in the Style of Raymond Garlick Bognor Bay divided into two tongues. A spit of shingle tossed by salty lips, and a broad flat of sand where the wind sung high to seagull cries. Riggings rang on a whispering breeze, woodwind tunes and sea- borne souls. Restless feet floundered upon…
-
for dVerse Prosery
We children had so little, although we always had just enough. Absent parenting, well more like absentminded parented, but Mum and Dad did their best. Mum said it is all about setting the right examples. Her mum was an ice cube, so she was a chip off it (or chipped, or something like that). That…
-
Quadrille #99 and Wordle
The Approach The barn door’s open to birds singing, and he comes into view, born out of smooth fog. The floor’s a chill. His damp stirs. Rips the fog, lifts from his heat. He’s a virus. A panic. I felt old enough. I’d just turned twenty. for dVerse Quadrille #99 and Wordle Words…
-
Her Fruit
Her Fruit She’s in the corner with the brass and bronze, like a passing thought that takes refuge in wrinkled silks of sweet grape gold and liquid purple. Arranged, liked an orange whose peel scantly exposes juice and fruit — so provocative — and arresting. There for the taking. Her fruit. Her sweet wine. An…
-
Quadrille #98
The Peel And again those white chalk cliffs near Dover peeled away and crumbled into the sea. Grief feels that way, the crumbling of it. It tore my heart, and peeled my bones. Raw days in a flood. Its flawed blue horizon is now my familiar. dVerse Quadrille #98 “peeling” (constraint: 44 words)…
-
dVerse To Be a Flower
To Be A Daisy Loves me. Loves me not. Her fingers unlock wish after wish, and she says, Absence has made my heart grow fonder — She’s waited out the white months for my return. You wish you may. You wish you might. And my summer days fall all too easy. Pluck me. Cut me.…
-
for dVerse MTB
February 1970: Camano Island We started off playing bridge but we couldn’t figure out the rules so as the afternoon slowly spent its hours we all agreed to play pinocle, we sat, crosslegged, two guys on one side of the coffee table, girls on the other, and a bowl of peanuts between us, and I…
It's Still Life 