Category: Poetic Forms
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An Etheree for dVerse
Toast The air seems distant, no landscape to see. Dusty purple greys the hills. The sky breaks out in argument with weather as air holds warm and motionless. It’s one of those simple things, like walking through fire to toast some bread. written for Victoria’s dVerse Etheree prompt of building a geometric shape…
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Three More Ryūka Poems
Three Variations on a Ryūka I. I made wishes on mindless stars The full moon pulling song from me But words died in my throat that day My face was stained with tears II. A robin’s singing to me Such a sturdy song A simple summer memory A sharp and broken tone III. The sun…
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The 10th Word for Miz Quickly
for Miz Quickly’s Aspirational ten words. This is the tenth: neighbor. Or alternatively: neighbour. Again, an American Sentence with 17 syllables.
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9 Out of 10 Cats are American Sentences
The stars fall out of heaven and they sting the night with a thousand bees. That brisk trumpet-voice is an ocean’s heart, the song of infinite tides. The day is weary and undone, and we whisper clear our doubtlessness. We watched the sky turn to smudged light, and asked questions of its sorceries. The wax…
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dVerse Quadrille 9
It’s Deeper Than Skin We are each other’s skin, an inherited thorn touched by lineage, memory’s echo. Soft as silk, as green is to spring. I sleep in quilted flesh. I dream to breathe, my heart; its voice. Skin … my moral default when I wander far and flooded. for dVerse. Quadrille…
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Poetic Bloomings – Form: “Boketto” as a Senryu
Drinking Coffee as the Big Tent Goes Up I’m in vertigo — falling, Meditating on bubbles, A swallow of embossed night. Foam, right across An expanse, pretty As silk cheer and wakefulness. Calliopes and coffee, Hold that thought. written for Poetic Bloomings, Poetry Form: Boketto, which consists of two stanzas, One of five…
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dVerse Haibun #13
West Beach The sea breaks just inches from where I stand. It’s a cannon’s crash in my ears. A tempest. A churning purgatory. We’re walking fast along this wet sand, the tide pushing us faster, the beach paperflat and straight into the west sky, and we’re barefoot. Mom says it’s good for the arches of…
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A Golden Shovel for dVerse
Unimportant Strangers I was all eyes and hands back then, each moment rosy smiles or a quick descent into dusty tears. Five years old. Such is the way of small hands, little limbs, and as I chased the summer, graceful as butterflies I chased, as the dust rising underfoot, I saw the sky as a…
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dVerse: Quadrille #8
Virgin Green These days are virgin green. A sultan’s feast upon our eyes. Satin pillows, violet’s spring, bluebells skipping a breezy song. A child sits, picks bouquets. Daisies. Clover. For her mother. These are her brightest days. Her curly head unaware of lonely nights. Broken hearts. for dVerse: Quadrille #8. 44 words…
It's Still Life 