Category: Poetic Forms
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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…
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A Meter for dVerse
A Morning Walk on West Pier We walked the pier, that early day, Young boys with lines that begged for fish. We watched the pier splitting waves, Fair dawn so bright and dewy wide. To float a while on morning mists, Its gentle sighs and rippled swell, If just to lift its jealous veil. …
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Collins Sestet for Poetic Bloomings
A Tale Without Title I’m held by the call of doves. Do they know the risks of love? Oh the stories doves could tell, the loss, the sorrow that befell a tender heart, a stoney fit, but that’s the nature of it. Cool-hearted, crystal kiss, love fell into dusk from skies above, his arms entwined…
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A Weekful of Haiku
I. Sun-bleached on the line Sheets fly like a sparrow’s wing We sleep deep tonight II. The day is restless A pace gripping at both legs Puffing steam and smoke III. Young love and young flesh I watch them growing older My eyes, rimmed with soot IV. Workers. Soldiers. Ants. Wasps and bees in hollowed…
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Miz Quickly Has a Few Words
A Town Like Ours This town’s worthy of hate, its valley cloud-soaked, flowed with rain and smoke, and dingy as old grey sheets, a bed unloved, a corner where the sun never shines bright enough, where bells plead and peal plain expectation off-key, off the back of war that emptied our town of hope but…
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dVerse Haibun #15
I am awake. I wake too early some days. No pattern – not just odd days, not just even days, or days with certain vowels or syllables. Some mornings I seem to wake in a neon blast, a flickering slap. A toothpick in the eye. My bones are agitated the way Jackson Pollock’s paintings sets…
It's Still Life 