Category: dVerse
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Building for dVerse
In the Blue I built a home under a sweep of sky, on a dome, on a small knoll of land, on a meadow of laughter’s echo, there I built a home in a realm of blue. for dVerse “DIY Building“
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dVerse Haibun #32
It’s spring. The leaves are green lisping tongues, and the faint sun stays low as a lost soul. It sings rather than shines. But that’s March, that in-between month, when winter lingers and spring seems too reluctant. I long for air, and walk amongst finger branches and spreading green that reveal truths hidden from my…
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dVerse’s Memento
As It Once Was It hangs, gilt frame, and a sepia sketch. 1945. Vesterport by Soren Frank. The old tollgate as it used to be with the mayor’s house on the right. Regency windows, leaded and multi-paned. Two gas lights by the door, electric shines there now. Square cobbles, a street, a walk to the…
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dVerse Quadrille #27
I Dreamt That I Woke on the Bottom of the Ocean I love the sound of rushing water, whether it’s in rivers, or over rocks. Noisy and giggling as a burlesque show. Uncharted, free and evergreen cold. But I have no such ear or affection for that sound when its tune comes from my refrigerator.…
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dVerse Haibun #31
Those Free Absolutes This morning’s sleep fell away into a different sphere, upward like grey smoke or fog lifting off an icy sea. And there was coffee, its scent humming through the air, and I grew more awake, stretched my clattering bones as the clock ticked away with cold clarity, in steps, by steps, by…
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dVerse Quadrille #26
I. Living In a Quiver I remember your mouth, soft and sea salt sweet, awake as a scattered melody. Lighthearted and revealing as the moon’s careless truth. Our buried whispers. We moved through the years, lost happily in a quiver. Those memories are ghosts but we’ll pretend we’re forever. II. Up In Smoke He’d…
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dVerse Mixology
Straight Up Rain I still toast this twist of love. It’s troublesome at times — on rare days, it’s sour as cold weather or straight-up rain. It’s a tipsy life, this tonic that drowns our sorrows, and I think of you, your forged smile it’s a quiet vesper, and you are a heart’s elixir. This…
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dVerse Haibun #30
Back When back in the day when I wore pink gingham dresses and my cotton socks were lace trimmed, and my world seemed delightfully old as a smothering summer of wallflowers and big willows and poplars and broad brimmed sun-hats. back then when I was seven, or maybe it was eight, and I didn’t know…
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dVerse Quadrille #25
A Sketched Ruin I live in a village that runs north by south, trees thickly dot the main road with summer’s shade and cover. We’re neither rich nor poor, though our history’s rich — our old church is a sketched ruin, a dwelling place that echoes at dawn. written for dVerse Quadrille (44…
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dVerse Verbifies
Let’s Talk Fog The fog conceived this stomach sky, cut so thick it’s stepped, a smoke-steeping attitude, it’s a fine sort of blasé. The world Mayed and greened, and diesel-eyed dark, and the air speaks of lost fire. written for dVerse “Verbified” and Poetic Asides “Let’s …“
