Earth Trees Weep twoblue sprucetrees planted in their front yardintended **l i v i n g**s e a s o n a l celebrantsover decades; but things change** rumbles an avalanche of tears **grands pass, one by one, as house crumbles;gone, beyond care, when thieves steal in, axe themCiel’s treesshine bright (ciel = sky/heaven)…
Category: dverse
dVerse — Poetics — American Family Story
Learn more about “The Bunkers’ Chairs” (I flipped the image to show how they were set up on the show) here. “Ah chee!” “Dingbat!” “Meathead!” “Baby Girl” “Daddy!” Archie and Edith’s chairs are on exhibit in The Smithsonian. A pudgy little man with the tongue of a white deviland a teeny weeny little weenie….
dVerse — Prosery — Eclipse
You drew stars around my scars–from Taylor Swift’s song, “Cardigan,”taken from her record Folklore. Eclipse Bionauts, our filaments had been floating in cosmoplasm through innumerable incarnations. When the threads of our irredeemable ills intersected, they caught and twisted together, anchoring each other. Agog and giddy, the blossom of grace bloomed in a garden of gratitude….
dVerse Poetics Tuesday — Niched
NichedAs meat puppets deteriorate towhere the end is nigh, we fly.Cyber-medical upload centerssiphon us while electric sparksstill crackle, into titanium-glassflash drives. Tiny-coffined, ourfamily pods shell out for one dayof resurrection each year.Fearful and careless call it zombie palacea place where dusteds attend year-round;for each, an annual androidal dance.Columbarium ash plants our treesalong sweeping forest hills,…
dVerse Q213 — A Prayer
A PrayerBefore looking outdoorsI reach for sun glasseswith which to enlivenstick webs, brown scrub,and grey. To say it will be a Mr. Rogers Day.A season of now, wherewe, within the all of it,smile and say, “Howdy,Neighbor.” Amen. I am today’s host of dVerse’ Quadrille Monday, back after a very enjoyable few weeks off. Today’s prompt…
dVerse — MTB/Form — All Hallow’s Eve Pastoral
All Hallow’s Eve PastoralA wind is blowing through the trees.A wind is blowing through the trees.Leaves are swirling round my knees.Leaves are swirling round my knees.Through my trees is a swirling wind.The leaves are blowing round my knees.The crisp air, scent of humus and apples.The crisp air, scent of humus and apples.Geese overhead honk goodbye…
dVerse Q 211 — ponies pathos
“Circus Ponies in Charcoal,” by blaisedrew62 ponies pathoselection day descends upon usspirit continues of Halloweencandidates rev and mock uspandering to dreams with liesflimsy carry-through on promisebeholden to their special interestsseeking shred of salving solacecrumbs of beneficence to gleanfrom shamprance of ponies’ pathos This is a quadrille, but also a Magic 9 form poem that Grace…
Tao Talk 