Oh thank youOh thank you for my music-catchers, curled gateway and tunnel to tiny bonesthat rattle and articulate waves todelicious-grokked interpretations ofBach, Dylan, Mitchell, Mitski, Hiatt.Oh thank you for my color-catchers,rods and cones spin myriad rainbowdelineations and blends, stroked byherds of domesticated and wild brushesin hands of VanGogh, Kahlo, and Klint.Oh thank you for my…
Category: dverse
dVerse Q210 – Winds of Arete
Winds of AreteWhat is it about white,its exertion of mightthrough tireless fightto strip honor and lightfrom others of the rightto unfurl wings to flight?Drums beat the daypulse for old-new waystravels on winds of arete.We will be heard. I’m reading Tommy Orange’s book, “There There” right now and feel it is a vital and important piece…
dVerse — Prosery Monday — Woolly Winter
There you can see a very small patch Of dark blue, framed by a little branch, Pinned up by a naughty star. — Arthur Rimbaud, from Novel Woolly Winter Months-long winter drains, where no snow brightens, no gusts whistle, and dis-ease suffocates. Today, Martha rides away in the creaky carriage after explaining she needs color…
dVerse — MTB — Message in a Bottle
Message in a BottleBottleVessel fused with bloody veilsFilled with vipers briefed to strikeOuroboros of travailVessel fused with bloody veilsMoney sucking vacuum trailsLining pockets left and rightVessel fused with bloody veilsFilled with vipers briefed to strikeFigurePolitician, special kindNoble braggart in cesspoolLook inside, no soul you’ll findPolitician, special kindBottle wobbles in the windDirty dealings in back roomsPolitician,…
dVerse — Tuesday Poetics — Sea Rose
Sea RoseColors here aren’t the same.Neither that of Spring,Nor Summer, nor Fall.Close to Winter,chalk of long-stripped bones,dark grey of wet stone,salt of churning sea.Only when moon greenswith limelight, in morningor dusky mist, mightyou see my liquid breath.Passed into my netherwith stab and twist,life ebbed, left with tide,after which my love soughtnew flesh to groom.Yet don’t…
dVerse — OLN 370 — Ladies and Gentlemen
“Hotel Lobby, 1943,” by Edward Hopper Ladies and GentlemenLegs are the last to go,draped in silk or cotton; unlike neck or bottomthat, despite treatments, showwrinkled, unrisen dough,overcooked, coiled ramen.Dicks are the first to go,hungry prima donas,brainless, seek nirvanas;power, lust make them grow– until one day they don’t.Blue pill popped iguana.Affix in mind, aboveshells of this…
dVerse — Poetry Form Villonnet — Cool Verve
Cool VerveWhen gilded sunlight daubs the verve in fallA cooler brush upon one’s face and armsAs homely augur tickles with its charmsAlong meandered gardens do we walkWithin scorch rays and temps that burn us all,Tenaciousness unwelcome in its harms,An agent wakes, diminishes with smarm To gilded sunlight daubs cooled verve in fallLike feathers readied, gathered…
