Category: Poetic Forms
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1 November: The Season Leaves Should Love
I.I really should love this season, gilt and ruby leaves that move with the wind, catch and hang in spider webs. But I don’t. People in my family always die in the winter. Every last damned one. II. We are like grass. Some always die, but most lift their veil in spring and renew. Recharge.…
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7 October: A Quadrille for dVerse
Feather Something as pure as a feather,a bleached bone quill,a white wisp vane, maybe fallen froman albatross in a brush with an angel. Or an owlsitting in withering elderberries. A feather hangs in knotted websof a spider, opalized by moonlight. A 44-word (sans title) quadrille written for dVerse Poets “brush”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI,…
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30 September: A Pioneer Poem
A Ghost of You Time won’t heal this scar –I’m your scattered ruin.Your touch, how much‘fore your scent leaves mywaking sleep and dreams.Take your weedy walk –I’m your scattered ruin.Time won’t heal some scars. A Pioneer Poem for MPP “haunted”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text…
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10 September: A Haibun SOCS and RDP
The Water Back then, the village pond was for washing work horses. A few years ago someone put carp in there. And the pea soup came, a peculiar kind of dark downward vegetating mush and grass that pressed against the fish. It sucked the oxygen out the water. The carp floated to the surface like…
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3 September: for RDP and SOCS (trigger warning)
Choices I.A man walks into a forest. Climbs an oak tree, ties a rope around a branch, then around his neck. And jumps. He chooses not to think about who finds him. II.A vicar lights a candle. Chooses a prayer for a boy he once gave first communion. He tells a mother her son cannot…
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3 September: For Tom’s Pioneer Poem Form
Reading Stars she is reading starswee pin quick wishes,or song birds singingfor sun and shadow.each star of night willreach the moon and seawee pin quick wishesshe is reading stars Tom’s Pioneer poem form axxxx, axxxx, bxxxx, bxxxx, cxxxx, cxxxx, axxxx, axxxx and max 5 syllables per line. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified…
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2 September: A Haibun for Unicorn Challenge
And Here’s the Rub … Somewhere between the bridge over Rudder Creek, which Dad pronounced as crick, and the freshly pressed apple juice stand with that hard-to-miss red plastic apple on the roof, Mum starts telling Dad about the carny man who came visiting yesterday – he wanted to sharpen her knives, Mum said, and…
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31 August: A dVerse Ought Not Haibun
Ought Not I’m not sure about the year, but it was the summer that Mum painted the porch stairs emerald green. Greener than jade. And shiny enamel. I thought it looked like Amazon tree frog green. And she hung eight baskets of trailing fuchsias and forget-me-nots from the eaves off the back porch, as if,…
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30 August: dVerse Blue Moon
It’s Pulling On You A cold ember moon in my hand on this lyrical night, waxing and waning, worn, torn, and heavy twice in August. It lingers and hangs in its moonlight benediction. Only once in a blue moon, they say, and should I forget, that moon’s a kind of grief from the genius of…
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24 August: A Haibun
To Feed A man and a woman sit in chairs that through the passing of time have become his chair and her chair. The room is a warm beige colour, the name of which neither of them can recall, but it was a popular colour a few years ago. They both have the same colour…
It's Still Life 