Category: dVerse
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dVerse Quadrille #19
Those In-Between Times During that lost in-between time, when my pen drew dust, and my thoughts scattered, and my inner voice wrote every conversation — During that no-nothing time, I didn’t know myself, cared little for myself; broken hearts have no spark. And I became my worst enemy. for dVerse: Quadrille #19. Forty-four…
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Homonyms for dVerse
New Sums His wry smile. He knew what he’d make from wheat and rye. Bread and brandy, and some whiskey and rye. for dVerse: Homonyms
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dVerse Haibun #23
Gorillas on the High Street This is what happens when gorilla shops move in. Pirañas on the High Street, eating up the small shops. Devourers of familiarity. Over there is the store where I bought that white blouse, bright as sunlight. It’s a rusted sign and soaped windows now. Can’t see in; can’t see out.…
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Dylan and dVerse
Swept We parted the night and spilled into each other like passing heat. Those things that happen swept into a room, like oil unearthed, near incoherent. Near born again. Some memories never dissolve. written for dVerse, inspired by “Lay Lady Lay” by Dylan
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Celebrating with dVerse
To Us There was a necktie, and high heels. There was tonight, and the coming of age. Beach Boys, and a small door into your dreams. We’d take these with us into our middle years. Celebrate them. A memorial to us saints and sinners, and neckties, and so forth. for dVerse “Celebrations“
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dVerse Quadrille #18
Forty-Four Words About Clouds I watched white-eyed clouds today as they gnawed at the sky, carved shapes that sang of twisted and turning lifetimes. They were incarnations of dreams, of paused imagination forged like cast iron mountains and stretching long as cirrus grass. I lay there. Watching. Drowning. dVerse’s Monday Quadrille (i.e.., 44…
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Dazzled by dVerse
Midnight on London Road They’ve cleaned the streets, water racing into shallows, into rushing rivers toward the curb. The road glares up at me, all slick silver and black from street lamps shining, like moon-struck pearls, hanging, dazzling me. And a cab goes by. Someone going somewhere, I suppose. The tyres; the water; the noise…
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dVerse Haibun #22
Ten Doves on Her Roof She says she wants them gone. Ten white doves on her roof. They’ve nested below the solar panels, there where warmth is a gathered renewable. There where two doves are now ten. There where white feathers fall lazy as February snow. There where fledglings pace the roof, grasp at courage…
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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…
