Category: dVerse
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Northbound on Brighton Road for dVerse
This is a rough draft for dVerse: cubist/impressionist observations during a brief drive on Brighton Road this afternoon. Northbound on Brighton Road I. the road is endless until it curves away straight on eternal blue in clouds II. the line is white centre on straight solid double broken the radio hums III. love, love me do…
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dVerse and Poetic Arrangment
The Fragility of Memory She and I, sisters of a common skin. We charted and deconstructed our childhood like avenging angels. Episodes of bitter dullness and beaten love. We organised those memories into tidiness. Displayed them like moths, wings pinned to dry — crisp and fragile. She swore never to forget, and she cursed me…
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dVerse’s Quadrille #17
Moonlight I am under the shadow of white. There where night falls in response to the turn of the moon. There where time is an old squabble, a stopped stone, that moon-hard slope. I am an apparition. Faceless. Cold blue and dim as dusk. dVerse Quadrille #17 including the word shadow
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dVerse Poets Haibun Monday
Conversations with My Mother I wish her a happy birthday. She turned 92 yesterday. She once said she prefers that I phone. Don’t bother with a visit, she said, we get on better when you ring. I make allowances. She 92. I wonder if I’ll make it to 92. I wonder if anyone will make…
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For dVerse: Haibun #20
An Absolute Night Up here, the moon watches, a silent astronomer gazing at us through stellar crowds. Fascinated, faintly dazzled by our unaccustomed ways, our wilds that leave its thoughts vacant as an open sea. Speechless. Barren. Spent. And that moon, searches the absolute night through sable stares of its pious eye, deep into our…
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A Little Night Air for Sunday Whirl #264 & dVerse
A Night’s Light Air A lightness shines across the window, lovers rise and fall like a wave’s song. Whispered words in flakes were heard, mutable turns of breathy phrase. Precise, entice a bee to pollen, a cuttlefish flash in cool moonlight — its iridescence is night’s sparkling tapestry. Held, beheld, this light air is a…
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Personifying the Moon for dVerse
To Wax Crescent I. Tonight, the moon is a slim wisp of herself, her knees tucked, and she waits. II. we throw stones, we’re safe, live in a brick house. and that old moon, it just glares down on us. for dVerse: Personifying the Moon
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For dVerse: Quadrille #15
Up a Tree My childhood was up a tree, on a limb, a branch, twigs too far. It grew, I grew legs long and arms to reach up through colours – spring, summer, fall’s scent on bark, sticky, pitchy, sweeping ’round my head. Those leaves falling. Falling. written for dVerse’s Quadrille Monday (44 words)
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dVerse Does Spouses
Mister Julia Childs She says I taste jammy, like plums or a goblet of sweet wine. My wife is earth’s pot, its radiant heat, a swollen dragon blaze. And (shhhh) I took her right there amongst the cabbages and courgettes. written for dVerse Poets: “Spouses of Famous People”
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for dVerse: Haibun #19
There’s Always One By 10 o’clock it was darker than the wrath of god. We heard the tide rising behind us, soft and tender, the chatter of rolling pebbles, and before us a driftwood campfire rising and speaking in tongues of cackling fury. We were girls on the edge of hormonal burst, ten of us…
It's Still Life 