dVerse — Poetry Form — Goodnight and Sweet Dreams and OLW 111

Pastel pink morn long fades to dusk- tethered incense smoke drifts — in dreams of boats. Sail-wings lift me from blue to black silver-glittered night, to islands on maps. Touch stone planets not found awake where cradled messages sleep, wait to sing. They leap and wriggle, imbued fish, unlocked clues that school, follow me home…

dream from beginning of february 2022

The dream I had wasn’t a dream as much as an image that presented itself to me when I was asleep.  I don’t have the artistic ability to create exactly how it looked but I can say it looked sort of like this.  The patterned material on the right is supposed to represent what I…

Dream — 3 Beatles, 4 Dreams

Three Beatles, Four Dreams I had all of these dreams in one night, one after another on approximately January 20, 2022 Dream 1The first dream had Shel Silverstein’s tree in it. George (Geo) walks up to the tree and thinks it is too thin, then he sees the double green lights of the video camera…

dVerse — Poetics — The Wells that Never Empty

The Muses who inspire do not abandon me;round the clock they tick, sparked heartbeatsthat draw the world ever closer in varied splendor:morning’s cooled dew in Summer,pink snow of sunrise in Winter,the earth-toned blanket of Fall,and the creeping green of Spring. At dusk’s change of shift, I listen for the wingsof Mother Night as she travels…

TSM 166 — Winged Messenger

She plays moon star sky-chase’til dawn, then coyote drinks deep.Her wise open eyes closeto yellow pools in otherworldlyrealms; her work beginsas spirit wings wait for her. Carrie is today’s host of The Sunday Muse.

The Sunday Muse 158 — Dream Lover

To knock me off balance again I see you, wind-blown, in my dream. Freezing and begging for respite, I beckon, “Come, get in the car.” So cold you are! You reach for me to knock me off balance again. We cling for dear life, for our love, enduring time, circumstances. I hadn’t thought of you…

dVerse — MTB — No More Chocolate Before Bed

When the teats on the cows were so tight, and the balls on the bulls were just right; when the corn danced tango on the ass of a pig; when the rat consorted with the goat and then birthed ghoulish vermin, I woke! image:  Joan Miró, “The Tilled Field” (1923) I love Dr. Seuss and…