Warm burn seeks out the belly.If only the shot glass would levitate away then, how much disintegration –of relationships, places, and things–would never be? How much sleaze, fist would not wound? How many ravaging truths unspoken? How many blubbery tears uncried? How many uncrushed motor vehicles? Unbroken bones, unmaimed flesh? How many less court costs…
Category: dverse
dVerse — Haibun Monday — Autumn’s voice (aki no koe)
After turning off the sound machine’s waves, walking to the toilet and hearing my morning tinkle, I pad down the carpeted hallway to the kitchen. Dotty gives a soft meow as she curls around my ankles. Where the floor registers’ heat poured silently from them, the new heating system whispers warm that is felt more…
dVerse — MTB — Taste Buds
Image from The Book Inscriptions Project. Follow the link to learn more. Alex- A few moments of reading pleasure in return for an evening of sensual delights. Dennis, October Bacchanalia 1994 Sent November 1, 1994: Dear Dennis, Is this a statement on my lack of reading prowess — or did you just want me to…
dVerse — Poetics — November: My Take
No green is seen outside the windows No sound but fans and sleeping cats No clear blue sky, ‘stead snowflakes fall No warmth of sun, a draft is all No laughter of a toddler running No parks or hills for her to climb No seeds on ground for birds to find No sight of squirrels…
dVerse — Quadrille 164 — Through
parakeet in flight, photo by Arunachala Colors glide in green and blue, flashing red, orange, yellow hues indigos, violets elemental dance wings and fins navigate through. Whether feathers in cloud-mist breeze or wet fin wiggles in prism seas each adjusts, motility’s must, comporting themselves with ease; flocking, schooling, living rainbows. colorful fish at Monterey Aquarium,…
dVerse — Prosery Monday — Night Mares
In the street of the sky night walks scattering poems — by e.e. cummings, from “IX- Impressions” “In the street of the sky night walks scattering poems. Dawn will write a new one soon,” she said that night as we walked, arm in arm, our necks craned, looking up, bare feet scuffling the uneven gravel…
‘Tis I, Marie (repost)
Dave, at A Sound Day, posted a Redbone Halloween song and talked about “The Witch Queen of New Orleans” a real person. That reminded me of a poem I wrote about her awhile back. OK, this one needs a WARNING. Adults only and not for the faint of heart. “Tis I, Marie, you come to…
Tao-Talk 