If I remember correctly, I received a poetry postcard from every person on my list. That is truly impressive to me. As you can see there are more than 31 cards here. Thank you to the poets from the list who sent multiple postcards. Also Thank you to Jules and Kerfe for being so generous…
Category: found
dVerse — MTB — If you want me to be honest
If You Want Me to be Honest April’s burst slumbers yet as I travel my slow-moving world. Each morning I make my way; Primordial, I shimmer. Datura, pale, mute blossom, listens in. Silly thought, I thought we had forever. To think I’ve waited for you. Take this clutter from my house, my psyche, and the…
dVerse — MTB — Brushing cobwebs from inkstone
Brushing cobwebs from inkstone Sol white-out blinds Beneath bluebird there’s no sun In garden dwells a human sage Red blossoms dangle Green cornstarch circle Chipping brown-furred critters love to dig showy Hazy honey texture Spider weaves in picnic pavilion corner’s pink-red sunset Canyon’s furry paw cups in golden light Your gaze, your golden eye fringed…
TSM 244 — “Tuesday Afternoon,” by The Moody Blues (found poem)
to see matterclouds calltrees drawfind gentle voices, sigh;myself, reflectionkind to leavethrough fairy-land come with mebegin to seeit does matterclouds calltrees draw nearfind out why hear it all Original lyrics:Tuesday afternoon.I’m just beginning to see,Now I’m on my way.It doesn’t matter to me,Chasing the clouds away.Something calls to me.The trees are drawing me near,I’ve got to…
last lines for 2022 poems
painting by Mary Sonya Conti nature’s teaching brings illumination of sun;bluff that satisfies the sequoia.each thing falls away like a leaf and tunes into each moment’s song.cold shadows fade; promised hearth warms us.elbow to elbow, we verse ourselves and flyand wave. another babe on your armas you inhale your garden,reciprocal determinersact of comfortingremains. her final…
dVerse — MTB — found poem(s) from 2022
i. The first time I saw you I heard boom Late Sunday night I’m sipping tea The first of summer, I stand before a California tree our appointed place, in our dappled green lane, ii. Is health dread chore as stone to bear, It’s quantity and quality’s Mountain Her living lingered, Her face a white…
