Willow-draped trickleswear wet green strands, fluttering naiad’s locks tickling shaded pale fish bellies. Ordinary magical stream meanders; along its obscurest banks gnomes and bullfrogs picnic and play checkers; where butterflies and birdstraverse undergrowth tosip in mid-July’s droughtand thirsty violets tiptoe. I went looking for a nice image to fit the poem but decided to…
Category: dverse
dVerse — Poetics — The Wells that Never Empty
The Muses who inspire do not abandon me;round the clock they tick, sparked heartbeatsthat draw the world ever closer in varied splendor:morning’s cooled dew in Summer,pink snow of sunrise in Winter,the earth-toned blanket of Fall,and the creeping green of Spring. At dusk’s change of shift, I listen for the wingsof Mother Night as she travels…
dVerse — Prosery — Ama
No, I do not weep at the world –I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.–Zora Neale Hurston,from “How Does it Feel to be Colored Me”in, World Tomorrow (1928) Daddy was known in our backwoods holler as Deacon. When he got up on his stump near Heron River’s shady cool banks, folks gathered; no…
dVerse 10th anniversary celebration week — MTB — Somewhen, somewhere
Instead of a spell in mortar and pestle dwell cast potions and powders aside to climb aboard magic carpet of dreams When the cruel have been culled to fertilizer, when clawed hand way of the coin has passed, when we return to garden again, a community. When plastic and propaganda have been chucked, when trees,…
dVerse’ 10th Anniversary Celebration Week — Poetics — My Garden on 071321
The edges of my garden curl along green fuzz, concrete, and stone. Its haphazard, organic growth is both playland and harvest zone; where ants climb and dragonflies wheel; where rainbow sways among today’s sky offering. Claudia Schoenfeld, one of the co-founders of dVerse, is today’s host for Poetics. We are celebrating the 10-year anniversary of…
dVerse — 10-year anniversary week — Quadrille 131 — jukin on down the line
When Mama had parties to whirl, she left us at Auntie’s.Didn’t she know Auntie had her own house jukes then?Where were their steady, hard-working, non-drinking men?Gramma and Grampa raised that platter way back when;self-serving dances that taint through the generations. top image: Wurlitzer Model 700 We are celebrating the 10-year anniversary of dVerse, aka…
dVerse — OLN 295 — Midsummer Rain
Dust-storms of yesterday, coughing daisies praying for wet faces and feet, for clouds’ pregnant outpouring of “loves me, loves me!” –and parched roses get stingy with scent. Then, Heaven inhales and rumbles dark silver-veined reply. When dogwood branches are heavy with blossoms and rain, and the goldfinch listen under their umbrellas, soft sigh in midsummer…
