
Brush piles rise,
sweat’s monuments,
home for wrens,
now brambled porcupines
Fierce greens explode
Thirsty lilies droop
Lawns languish
Cats splay, inert
Taunting clouds play
with promises
Inadequate sprinkles
dry by morning
Old lungs trapped
in cement towers
heave in brownouts
waiting for evening
Linda Lee Lyberg is today’s host for dVerse. Linda says:
It’s that time again for dVerse’s own creation- the Quadrille. For those of you new to dVerse, the quadrille is a 44 word poem exactly, excluding the title. The word today is Bramble or any form thereof, or even one you create containing the word.
So you just need to count the words and not the syllables. The Lobster Quadrille by Lewis Carrol is a lot longer than 44 words.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It looks like quadrille has another definition, which is the one Carroll used in his poem. From an online dictionary:
a square dance performed typically by four couples and containing five figures, each of which is a complete dance in itself.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like your harsh, aggressive imagery. Just like brambles.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Jane. The last time I mowed way out back, the brush pile looked exactly as described. They are horrendous! We were going to hugel the brush pile and plant things on it, but those buggers would come right through.
LikeLike
The most vicious things always seem to find a way.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is a biting edge to your words Lisa- much like those prickly thorns. Really well done!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you very much, Linda. Current state of mind does effect poetry, as evidenced by this poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A terrific write on this one, Lisa; each stanza sets the scene & tells a tale. Your last stanza is killer, as is, perhaps the onerous heat midst those concrete canyons .
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glenn, thanks. It’s bad out there!
LikeLike
I agree with Jane 😀 This is incredibly potent, Lisa!! ❤️❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sanaa, thank you, dear.
LikeLike
Such a wonderfully, moving piece. The imagery is sharp and dark; I love it very much! Fabulous writing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lucy, thank you, there is a menacing aspect to all of it these days.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ahhh yes – sounds exactly right describing our TX summer heat. Lawns languish for sure, as here they are not green, just crispy brown, and the clouds do taunt us. Very good. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
The grass here is also brown where it isn’t shaded by trees. The aggressive weeds never seem to mind the heat though and are running rampant. Glad you liked it, Barbara, thanks! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
The last stanza grabbed me. Concrete towers are not friendly places for quaantines!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know, and then you add the heat wave into the mix and the drain on the capacity of public utilities to keep up…
LikeLike
Playful, original, and technically an absolute tour de force.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much and appreciate your comment.
LikeLike
I feel the heat!
LikeLiked by 2 people
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
sounds like a scorcher Lisa … reminiscent of our last summer!
Yes being locked in those towers must be like torture … I had no idea such housing existed until the quarantine photos grabbed headlines. Such horrid lifeless forms …
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re blessed not to have experienced one.
LikeLike
yes but I have known homelessness …
LikeLiked by 1 person
😦 I “liked” this but I don’t like it. Sorry, Kate.
LikeLike
I survived Lisa, not sure I would a tower!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great imagery. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jenna 🙂
LikeLike
Y.E.S.S.S….!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
N.O.O.O.O!!!! 😉
LikeLike
We’re experiencing a heatwave here too!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The one here is supposed to end tomorrow. We’ll see…
LikeLiked by 1 person
A wonderful poem Lisa. So many images like a video running! Love the inert cat laid out like my squirrels on a hot day!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Exactly like that! Mlady has long thick hair and she gets on the cool ceramic tile and splays. My dog Chauncey did that all the time. He was half rabbit I think.
LikeLiked by 1 person
so funny when they do that… Look like sunbathers on the beach in July!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very furry sunbathers 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
…that is a frightening thought LOL
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lots to like here – the splayed cats, the brambled porcupines and the ‘lungs’ (not people) trapped in cement towers. A summer blast.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Peter. We’re in the thick of it.
LikeLike
Clouds taunt… that’s exactly what they are doing here! Excellent imagery throughout and I so identify with the last stanza.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Punam, thank you for your comment ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are welcome, Li. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, I love the imagery, especially the porcupines! And the poem even looks like a square dance with the four tight stanzas. This is beautiful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 Thank you for the comment. I need to get out to the porcupine brush pile and take a pic.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I felt the oppressive heat in this poem, Lisa, and the lack of moisture, especially in the alliterative ‘Lawns languish’, the splayed cat (mine do that too), and the lines
‘Old lungs trapped
in cement towers
heave in brownouts
waiting for evening’.
It made me gasp.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kim. It is supposed to be rains today, but it’s more of the same so far….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oof, exhausting. The heat sounds just the wrong side of pleasant. I can feel it through your words.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s like a double prison. I never thought I would look out at all of the green outside that is going nuts in the heat and see it as menacing.
LikeLike
You’ve captured well the many elements of a heatwave. I felt like I was in it. (Although, here, that’s pretty much all summer. Thank heavens for AC.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Ken. Yes! TGFAC!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Us too. Great description: cats splay, inert. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, K!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the art and your beautiful verse
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jude, glad you like them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is our summer. However, today, we had a ground soaking rain and that was wonderful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So happy for your ground soaking rain, Imelda. We had a big thunderstorm at dusk and it’s still raining out there. Relief! Yes!
LikeLike
Nice imagery indeed. Where I live it’s called just another summer. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not by poets it isn’t 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
true to the word Bramble
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Lasha.
LikeLike
Prickly and brambly…I just made it out without too many scratches…loved it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 Thank you, Vivian!
LikeLiked by 1 person
👍🏽
LikeLiked by 1 person
your poem carries a heavy and important image. this is chilling:
Old lungs trapped
in cement towers
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wish it wasn’t so. Senior high rises should be exempt from brownouts.
LikeLiked by 1 person