Category: dVerse
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31 August: A dVerse Ought Not Haibun
Ought Not I’m not sure about the year, but it was the summer that Mum painted the porch stairs emerald green. Greener than jade. And shiny enamel. I thought it looked like Amazon tree frog green. And she hung eight baskets of trailing fuchsias and forget-me-nots from the eaves off the back porch, as if,…
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30 August: dVerse Blue Moon
It’s Pulling On You A cold ember moon in my hand on this lyrical night, waxing and waning, worn, torn, and heavy twice in August. It lingers and hangs in its moonlight benediction. Only once in a blue moon, they say, and should I forget, that moon’s a kind of grief from the genius of…
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24 August: A Haibun
To Feed A man and a woman sit in chairs that through the passing of time have become his chair and her chair. The room is a warm beige colour, the name of which neither of them can recall, but it was a popular colour a few years ago. They both have the same colour…
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23 August: dVerse Quadrille Pines
Rooted in Pines A friend once told me,visit a graveyardwhen you’re depressed. You will feel happier. There’s a twitch widthbetween thislife and death. But I’m happy to root myselfunder tall pines, and I’m not enticed by a ledge that inventsa leap. For De’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets – to include is any form of the word…
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16 August: Transitions
A Little Brouhaha All about me, they lean,dahlias the size of dinner plates.It’s a feast of decanted pinksmacked sidewise, andstrong armed in a breeze. The air twists on scents of fermenting apples, wasps behaving like angry drunks,and all their unhinged buzzingis a premonition of autumn. Written for dVerse “Transitions” and RDP “Brouhaha” (in reference to angry, buzzing wasps) and Fandango’s…
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16 August: dVerse Prosery
Vanished She’s learning about sound barriers at school. Sound. Speed. Aeroplanes. Red lights on the left. Green lights on the right. Like Christmas lanterns flashing on steel wings. “Flash. Flash. Flash,” she calls out to the hundreds of faces up there. People flying through rain coloured clouds, over roads and Tobermory-colour houses. She watches the…
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8 August: dVerse Quadrille “Pop”
The Snap and Pop Like a shapeyou don’t wantcrossing your path at night, real as an ancient tree,a face like a chiseled wall.He’s shadowland. I move to make empty space between us,but I can still hear him, snapping andpopping his chewing gum. A quadrille written for dVerse Poets, the word this week is “Pop”. Quadrille: 44…
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4 August: A Quinzaine Poem
A Quinzaine Poem: 04.07.23 Squirrel sitting on the lawnAre you watching meWatching you Bumblebees at the thistlesAre you still thirstingFor nectar Robin in the tree singingMay I sing with youA duet The garden is marking timeDoes it see its endLike I do Written for Lisa’s Quinzaine: 7.5.3 (1st line statement, 2-3rd question the 1st line) and Ragtag…
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29 July: Smoke and Ash
29.07.23 A Duplex Form A Duplex Poem: Smoke and Ash Windows open. Breeze skimming through the house,a song on the radio, don’t know who’s singing it. Not knowing isn’t not caring. For instancemusic that fills me like this skimming breeze. Music that fills gaps between my heartbeat,that throb in my neck and ears. Or a…
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29 July: A Duplex Poem
190 words, 1 minute reading time The Man In The Waxed Brown Raincoat He is wearing a waxed brown raincoat,and carries a sword wielding its warnings. Warnings smoking across breaking waves,this dying season of ash, birds and bells. The sky is at war, ash and bells tollinglike a defiling serpent of fiery terror. Like some…
