Category: dVerse
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dVerse Quadrille #48.1
A Quantum Bounce It’s a form of freedom, I suppose, drawing your hair up into an elastic band, and then with the air teasing curls, off you bounce. She ran, feet light, legs long, a flouncing quantum bounce. I remember, when I used to run like that. For dVerse: Quadrille (44 words sans…
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dVerse Quadrille #48
On the Cobbles My sights are set on steep roads, sun-baked and wheel- worn cobbled ways. I am aimless through high forests of mist, undercover of desert- spawning sky, broad and wandered by reluctant heroes. I’ve no fear chasing the unknown; eventually, I will always bounce back. dVerse Quadrille #48 “bounce” (44 words).…
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Haibun 8.1.18
I looked it in the eye, that moon. It’s the colour of steaming milk, perfectly dropped in a dark joyful void — perfect for blind sleep — for someone who can. But not for me, I’m fixed on this constellation view, watching a winter moon swallow the sky. Night’s freckles shining Mistook those bright stars…
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dVerse Haibun: 13.12.17
My man with white hair and eyes like sky, he whistles with robins and hums with bees, my cheerful man with grandchildren on his knee, arms reaching up for him, he’s easy, his breezy smile, and he’s my happy surprise, that man with white hair. My castle wall His round tower heart Pardon the day…
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dVerse Quadrille #46
A Too Brief Moment Did you listen to morning dew glisten, alas did you hear my footfall, shoeless, crunching grass. Ask yourself when you last heard silence. Last night we stood in Leicester Square, where fairy-lights dazzled the air, and I caught your still shadow next to mine. dVerse Quadrille #46 “crunch” and…
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Changes for dVerse
We walk along the ageing edge of things, reading tombstones like book titles. Everyone has a story, you say, and I wonder what percentage of my story is a prank. It’s all too depressing here, you say, but I find Highgate strangely calming, as if existing amongst these fates is an affirmation. And the wind…
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dVerse Quadrille #45
Up in Smoke I remember him suffering inside a cloud of smoke in his chair. Rocking. He said he never found his proper place in the world. Claimed his cough was an allergy. He died later that year amidst pipes, cigar boxes, papers and a pitch-sticky spittoon. dVerse Quadrille #45 “Rock”
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dVerse Haibun Monday
Courage Winter is courage. It’s a well-disciplined march stopping for nothing. And it’s those middling, dead-centre winter months that possess all our complaints, and illnesses. And tragedy. Winter stalks the frail, takes them into its crushing tranquility, leaving us in deepest grief and melancholy during the whole winter journey. We are for loss of green…
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dVerse Looking Up
What Were You Thinking … that everyone felt that rise and fall, that it was breathing. waves in the sky, that my feet were on the ground so my head was safe in the stars, that you and I were safe because we turned the key between us, that the only way out is from…
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dVerse Quadrille #44
Kick Plastic no plastic, no kicking this plastic planet into the long grass. no scrapyard-plastic junkyard, no poisoned water pumps or floating microbeads. rising, rising, and how to hold back a tideline. we’re drinking from a madman’s glass, drinking up desert. nobody trusts a scorpion’s nose. dVerse Quadrille #44 “kick” 44 words
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