Gerard Sekoto, Woman With Downcast Eyes (1955) Blue Purpled WomanStepping away from sunshinesetting over open-air market,blue face lost in contemplation.Wishing to turn right, not left,away from grandeur’s large-knuckled fists, plate-sizedpalms that visit carefully-hidbits of now purpled flesh. Onlyhawk eyes notice my wincelifting bushels of persimmons.His lips smack at the Snoek*, distracted. Greasy fingersignore napkins, rubbing cleanon my…
Category: dverse
dVerse Poetics — Where Does Love Go When It Goes?
Matisse Where Does Love Go When It Goes? One would hope it stings and stings and stingsand then fades as its way. In a merciful realmthis would be. We’d hide only pockets of sweets,crinkled with red opaque cellophane. Chewingon reveried, sunny days, their wrappers overour eyes, calorie-free nums that don’t rot your teeth.Those chewy…
dVerse Prosery Monday — Heard
Publication – is the Auction Of the Mind — Emily Dickinson, from Publication – is the Auction (788) Heard The first things she remembers are screams. Her own. And too much red. Twelve years later… Lilac wafts through window of the third-floor dormitory, waking Dahlia. It’s laundry day. Still an hour before dawn. She pads…
dVerse Tuesday Poetics — Eat, drink, and be merry.*
Eat, drink, and be merry.* Never decline an invitation to laugh with friends. The kitchen may need cleaning, laundry may be piling high, and deadlines for filing tax returns are near; but An in-law just passed unexpectedly, an old co-worker/friend’s now in chemo, bombs are dropping here and there, and AI is out to get…
dVerse Q245 — Tinkling Dem Bones
Tinkling Dem Bones Bones – frames creak aboutwithin, without house, clothedwith flesh, upholstery; bareearly Spring trees. Rattled in closets; as unwaxedboards that squeak beneath. You feel it in them.You shake them in Octoberand in Friday craps. They dance us silly human cartoons. De (aka whimsygizmo) is today’s host of dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. De wants…
dVerse MTB/Forms — Dear Bean
Dear Bean, Though I’ve felt blessings from your grown, tended, matured, picked, roasted, and ground sacrifices untold times, I ask myself, have I uttered sincere worded verse that your tiny ears have heard? Gazed gratefully into your tiny, beneficent eyes so they might see my soul’s satisfaction? I do thereby publicly proclaim my adoration this…
dVerse Haibun Monday — Why is a raven like a writing desk?
Why is a raven like a writing desk? A glazed-circled pill, washed down with last elixir from the magic bean pot, soon called to me, “Come out and play, little Alice!” No longer small, I managed to crawl through the shrinking doorway to robin’s egg blue, glittered with sunbeams. “WHERE ARE YOU?” I boomed with…
Tao-Talk 