Does exuberant green panorama speak Spring or Summer? Mid-June paper flutters in ninety-degree heat. Rhubarb roars. Dandelions smoke cigarettes, bees hmmm carnal at rainbows. Lilacs’ brown sugar memory; mitigated with gingered peonies. Life cycles’ motors rumble. Six letters may spell what they wish. This poem is also a nod to Sanaa’s included quote (thanks Sanaa!)…
Category: dverse
dVerse — Prosery Monday — Lost? plus update: youtube of Matthew McC… speech
These are the things they don’t tell us.– Girl Du Jour, from Notes on Uvalde I’m floating up, out of the operating room ceiling, through walls, the roof of the hospital, and into the night sky. Drowsy in the black expanse, I feel warm in a giant palm that closes around my nakedness. My hospital…
dVerse — Poetics — Our Stories
(There are) many stories which are not on paper, they are written in the bodies and minds of women. — Amrita Pritam I hear her each morning before she rounds the corner heading to the well. It is a shuffling, almost furtive, where her worn sandals scuffle hard-packed dust. It would have been kinder to…
dVerse — Quadrille 153 — Greed’s Covet
Dawn blushes horizon’s lip as deer, mist-soaked, hooves to coats, browse. Drowsy after night’s day, they, dainty, step through stone testaments of dust. The grass is greenest here, over bones, where ghosts’ collective groans lament our kind’s terminal folly; our greed’s covet .……………………………………………over love. top image link Linda is today’s host of dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. …
dVerse — MTB Form — Constanza — A Cloudy Day (2nd offering)
A cloudy day and the wind blows scent of lilacs; infusing air, it lifts the tendrils of my hair. A cloudy day; buds on the rose; swelling green onions slow to burst. No aphids in sight; could be worse. A cloudy day; doves in repose, dozing cuddle in the pine tree post pecking; a morning…
dVerse — MTB — Constanza — recipe
recipe to aim for sleep takes common sense head toss and turn off at the pass when day is but a rosy lass take care, prepare with long defense decide where limits bring fatigue then go beyond; exhaust you seek to guarantee your plan’s success shed worry’s raimant at the door step naked into your…
dVerse — Quadrille 152 — A Contest Rests
A-drowse I muse, who is cuter asleep, baby fauna or Popeye. Sure, tiny heaving feathered, furred, or terried chests attest affection-stirred endearing as they engine-putter guileless nest; yet knowing benevolent, bell-bottoms-exchanged, in a nightshirted Miss Oyl’s Bluto savior’s dreamland bub bub bubs a contest rests. image link Sarah is today’s host for dVerse’ Quadrille Monday….
Tao-Talk 