Category: Poetic Forms
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P’Blooming & d’Verse Quadrille #13
Quadrille #13 The Swimmer He was all blind bones and tendons, whip-willow arms and flying legs. Stood sturdy. Stood jar-steady. It seemed easy, there in water, light as clouds are in sky. Fluid and flowing, a light blue mountain’s breath, and he fed off the roar of crowds. © Misky 2016. for Poetic Bloomings…
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for dVerse: Haibun #18
The Victor Writes the History I keep those memories, treasure them, fall in love with them – over and over again. I colour each one with a whitewash tint to fit, add lilac fragrance like punctuation, form and reform (memories are so delectably malleable), and no one corrects perception, ones private and privileged view,…
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Poetic Bloomings Dances a Quadrille
7:15 Coffee is made. Plates on the table. Radio’s on, but silence takes over. The dog sniffs the air; falls back to sleep. A morning cough from upstairs, emptying lungs of sleep. Rain drips from the gutter as I sip coffee. Silence never tasted so good. © Misky 2016, 3 August: Quadrille, 44 words.
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dVerse: Quadrille #13
The Birthday Dress Time is beige. A sepia moment on the run from invisible. That’s me. Two, maybe three. New dress. Brown plaid. Mum did my hair. Ring curls. My smile’s brighter than sun. For Dad. He’s the one with the camera. Smile, my girl. Smile for your daddy. written for dVerse Poets:…
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for dVerse: Haibun #17
Heat: To Sweat & Turn & Tick By 5 o’clock, I’m buckled into heat. Its grim tactics empty me of summer’s pleasure – no appetite for sweet cherries, no thirst for berries. And tender leaves curl in distress, shrivel into brown and brittle spines as if devoured by cruelty. And so pitiful those cankered apples…
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dVerse “Sevenling”
A Flinch I was smaller. Younger. Sharper. Like gravel. I spoke in consonant chords. In song. I was like earthquake weather © Misky 2016. for dVerse “Sevenling” themed music
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dVerse Quadrille #13
A Fluttering Folly Time’s not making this any easier; I wear your memory like a ring. Twist it when it’s too tight, curse it like a floundering rite when it aches. Memories of all my failures, fluttering follies like sails on little boats fleeing this journey. © Misky 2016. For dVerse Quadrille #13…
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dVerse Quadrille #12
Just Roses I’m eyeing a hooded parking meter. Its flag is up. Expired. Like some Tranquil step toward death. Across the street is the barbershop. Then the bank. And that’s the whole block. Banks need space for all that money to grow. I just grow roses. written for dVerse Poets Quadrille #12 –…
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✔️ Poem Form: “Pathya Vat”
Thunder’s Middle Voice Those black crow clouds Just keep rolling, Building, boiling, Then pouring scorn. Our summer storms Are whiskey warm, Like peppercorns’ Heat wakening. We wait, listen, For the lightning, Thunder’s frightening Torn middle voice. For Poetic Bloomings In-Form Poetic form: “Pathya Vat” is a Cambodian verse form, consisting of four lines…
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dVerse: Shun Enu Prayers
Shun Enu Prayers I’m praying. It’s a nightly ritual. Like brushing my teeth, washing my face, pulling off my socks (right foot first). And it’s rained all day. A steady mist, it soaks into everything. Makes the air heavy. Makes my head heavy, too, my thoughts condense. There’s solitude in rain for good reason. And…
It's Still Life 