Category: Poetic Forms
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A dVerse Quadrille
I Am In The Shadow of highbrick archeswalls ofchipped stuccorendering heated dust rainingfrom bellspealing namesof vanished saintsand talesof moonstruckswallowscoaxed fromnesting cliffsswift as lighton wingsthat cutclouds and sky.our shadowswere justflutteringlips. for dVerse Poets, Quadrille Monday “Swift” and 44 words sans title. © Misky 2021 Image WikiCommons California State Archive. A poem based on recollections of a…
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dVerse Haibun: Memory Lane
The Straight Of It It might’ve been 1952. Or 3. It was certainly summer. I remember wearing cotton shorts and a sleeveless top. It’s hot. The sun stings my arms. I’m barefoot, walking on a narrow brick path that always feels cool and slightly wet against my toes. It leads from the back door down…
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16.02.20 dVerse Prosery
A Taste For The Green Stuff I went out to the hazel wood, because a fire was in my head, and it was sweet as green, as Absinthe and a sugar cube on a little silver slotted spoon, and as I watched the cold finger of frost draw across my eyes, I was free as…
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dVerse’s Eagle Haibun
I’ve seen a raven, seen a crow, seen a robin in the hedgerow. Once saw a hawk, might’ve been a falcon, or maybe a kite, seen lots of pheasants, and a few dead ones on the road, and I’ve seen a dozen starlings strip a cherry tree. But I’ve never seen an eagle, and doubt…
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22 January 2021
When We Were Young We’d runand ride the leaves, sing duetswith the breeze. We were luck, likeleprechaun green, and no thief of timeever intervened. Ekphrastic Poetry shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter © Misky 2021
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20 Syllable Micro-Poetry
The Chills Deep inside a fever,he dreamt of a cold blind white place whereit was always winter. for @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter © Misky 2021
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Double Quadrille (88 Words) for dVerse Poets
Bruegel Narrates Hunters in the Snow Down by the stony roadwhere the trees growsnowy twigs, and the frozencreek babbles in its bafflingstring-like voice, and tinyflickering candles defythe winter gloom from thatchedroof houses, and the north windscrapes an alto low moan from God’s own rudder-spiked mountains that spill chills on the good brothersof the monastery, whereonly…
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A Golden Shovel for dVerse
Under the 500 Spires of Prague It’s the same dream of 500 golden spires, hereby the fast-flowing waters of Bohemia. Areyou and I just vanished reflections off theold Charles bridge? Are we the fallen red tulipsthat are rolled and floating into damp buddedfolds? We stroll the ridge of mortar rot, andfeed stray dogs our bread.…
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dVerse Quadrille #118
An Old Small Song There’s smokefrom the dying fire in her eyes, it bites deep at her heart,and she sings an old small song. Laughs. Then cries.Old flames never die, she says, and then nods-off into her past years as the inglenook’s firegoes cold. dVerse quadrille #118 “inglenook”. 44-words, sans title. © Misky 2020 Photo…
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dVerse Jisei Poems
Four Japanese Jisei Poems I.my wishful lookyou have buried, lock and keyin this folly home of neglect and blame,fortune, you are thrown II.winter finds its return,spurn this gold and gilt,into damp cobwebs spun III.leaves, prey of the worm,nature neitherrich nor poor,but proudis the creature living IV.her red veil hairand green eye squinta devotion ofdistintested warmthher…
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