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Sunday Whirl #272
That Morning in Norcia After the shaking and the rubble, the air fell still. It was hell. Hands busy, panicked, curled around stones and bricks. Every passing minute echoing disaster, and every breath a silvery dust. A man tripped, dropped to his knees — from exhaustion or maybe sorrow, maybe there’s no difference anymore. Is…
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dVerse Quadrille #19
Those In-Between Times During that lost in-between time, when my pen drew dust, and my thoughts scattered, and my inner voice wrote every conversation — During that no-nothing time, I didn’t know myself, cared little for myself; broken hearts have no spark. And I became my worst enemy. for dVerse: Quadrille #19. Forty-four…
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Wordle #271
Daybreak Bounce We break with morning, carry our dreams into mist’s wake. A way… Away into this spent night, and its thousand stars that give birth to sky and plant hope on sunrise. Sunday Whirl’s Wordle #271. Not all words used.
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We Brought Down the House
image by “They All Slept Here” by Ilenia Pezzaniti. Poem written for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge for September 2016, and dVerse Open Night
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Homonyms for dVerse
New Sums His wry smile. He knew what he’d make from wheat and rye. Bread and brandy, and some whiskey and rye. for dVerse: Homonyms
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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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Dylan and dVerse
Swept We parted the night and spilled into each other like passing heat. Those things that happen swept into a room, like oil unearthed, near incoherent. Near born again. Some memories never dissolve. written for dVerse, inspired by “Lay Lady Lay” by Dylan
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Celebrating with dVerse
To Us There was a necktie, and high heels. There was tonight, and the coming of age. Beach Boys, and a small door into your dreams. We’d take these with us into our middle years. Celebrate them. A memorial to us saints and sinners, and neckties, and so forth. for dVerse “Celebrations“
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vVerse: One Tick at a Time
The following is written (and submitted) to Visual Verse: Vol. 03 Chapter 12. Those Arpeggio Days If we were flowers, we’d be crisp around the edges by now. Fragile and bee-stung, holding on to our last harmonic breath. Grasping at last aesthetic hope. This morning you said that you finally understood the world. It’s…
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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…
It's Still Life 