Category: Poetic Forms
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dVerse Haibun #27 and Twiglet #2
Two version of the same piece. The first is written as a haibun for dVerse Poets using the word “night”. The second version is the original that uses linebreaks, created as a free-write exercise for prompt #2 at The Twiglets. I. Run Away I’ve drawn over my childhood where there’s no children’s hour, no storybook…
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dVerse Quadrille #22
Sliced You’re so random, like an accident or a scar, like when you blurted out I don’t understand pickled cows sliced in half. Poor beast. It’s been Hirst’ed. Damien’ed. Like that canvas of dead black flies, or framed shells and cigarettes. I mean — bite me for dVerse: Quadrille #22 “Scar” – 44 words in…
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dVerse Haibun #26
I’m unable to sleep. Again. Winter makes me a bit flighty. Makes me fidgety as shivers. But when the sun does appear, it’s all the more welcome. This morning I watched the sun rise and focus and burn away fog so thick that the end of the street had disappeared into its own depth, and…
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dVerse Quadrille #21
Between the Days Somewhere, between harvests and rain storms, and lingering wooden crates with mythic mounds of apples, (seems only a week ago) the moon raised itself, as if to order our world to rights. It was a ripe spoon-fed ball, and it took our breath away. for dVerse: Quadrille 21 with 44…
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dVerse Haibun #25
To a Moon Trellis Did you see the moon race across the sky? Like a witch rising from the roots of stars, and the breeze through November leaves, teasing those percussioned bones. That moon, dressed in night, black and white, and hung oblong in a twine of pallored skin. On strings, it seemed, played by puppet…
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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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We Brought Down the House
image by “They All Slept Here” by Ilenia Pezzaniti. Poem written for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge for September 2016, and dVerse Open Night
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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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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…
It's Still Life 