Category: Poetic Forms
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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…
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dVerse Haibun #22
Ten Doves on Her Roof She says she wants them gone. Ten white doves on her roof. They’ve nested below the solar panels, there where warmth is a gathered renewable. There where two doves are now ten. There where white feathers fall lazy as February snow. There where fledglings pace the roof, grasp at courage…
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dVerse’s Quadrille #17
Moonlight I am under the shadow of white. There where night falls in response to the turn of the moon. There where time is an old squabble, a stopped stone, that moon-hard slope. I am an apparition. Faceless. Cold blue and dim as dusk. dVerse Quadrille #17 including the word shadow
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Poetic Bloomings In-Form: Naani
I’m content to cook, to fill platters and gather up friends and family — time is lost on us. written for Poetic Bloomings In-Form: Naani The NAANI is one of India’s most popular Telugu forms introduced by poet Dr. N. Gopi. It consists of 4 lines, totalling 20 to 25 syllables. It…
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dVerse Poets Haibun Monday
Conversations with My Mother I wish her a happy birthday. She turned 92 yesterday. She once said she prefers that I phone. Don’t bother with a visit, she said, we get on better when you ring. I make allowances. She 92. I wonder if I’ll make it to 92. I wonder if anyone will make…
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A Bussokusekika for Poetic Bloomings
Bare Bones Yesterday’s calm slipped into a blind feral wind, naked and ruthless, a murdered bruising day for wasps drunk on whiffs of apple with bare bones that gores the sky. for Poetic Bloomings: Form bussokusekika 5.7.5.7.7.7
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For dVerse: Haibun #20
An Absolute Night Up here, the moon watches, a silent astronomer gazing at us through stellar crowds. Fascinated, faintly dazzled by our unaccustomed ways, our wilds that leave its thoughts vacant as an open sea. Speechless. Barren. Spent. And that moon, searches the absolute night through sable stares of its pious eye, deep into our…
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For dVerse: Quadrille #15
Up a Tree My childhood was up a tree, on a limb, a branch, twigs too far. It grew, I grew legs long and arms to reach up through colours – spring, summer, fall’s scent on bark, sticky, pitchy, sweeping ’round my head. Those leaves falling. Falling. written for dVerse’s Quadrille Monday (44 words)
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A Cinquain for P’Bloomings
Fled Luck was a tapestry, days of infinity. Into your arms, a refugee of love. Poetic Form: Cinquain: 2.4.6.8.2 syllables/line. Written for Poetic Bloomings In-Form Wednesday
It's Still Life 