When the teats on the cows were so tight, and the balls on the bulls were just right; when the corn danced tango on the ass of a pig; when the rat consorted with the goat and then birthed ghoulish vermin, I woke! image: Joan Miró, “The Tilled Field” (1923) I love Dr. Seuss and…
Category: dverse
dVerse — side by side — “Oh When Will Autumn Moon and Spring Flowers End (The Beautiful Lady Yu)” by Li Yu
my reinterpretation Please clouds, veil Venus // winds strip stems!Fragrant petals now a biting blinding snowEvening’s wander un-dammed floodgates // time’s remembered joysSeason’s rendezvous // forbidden pools // yesterday today’s woeWarm // velvet curtains hushed // urgent cushioned sighsCool // sandpaper walls echo // piteous ragged lowsHow many ghosts // sweet rotting arms // must…
dVerse — Poetics — UN Chinese Language Day Celebration Poem
Oh When Will Autumn Moon and Spring Flowers End (The Beautiful Lady Yu) ~ Li Yu (my reinterpretation of Li Yu’s poem, using the same title) Please clouds, veil Venus // winds, strip stems! Fragrant petals now a biting blinding snow Evening’s wander un-dammed floodgates // time’s remembered joys Season’s rendezvous // forbidden pools //…
dVerse — Quadrille 126 — One
I roll morning blinds and see a vista of life ashimmer with Sol’s panoptic egalitarianism. I don’t bother with socks and shoes. Swooping up a cup of hot coffee, I step outside and join the scenery. Soft sighs, one with all, welcomed, refreshed, refashioned. Image: “Landscape,” by Jean Charlot (1898-1979) De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) is…
d’Verse — OLN — hollow dings (sijo)
a woman in labor before gathered two support clumps — one hovering, warm, within her reach; one outside, passing the whisky she has one ninja love grain; our text message dings ring hollow Image info: A nurse holds a newborn baby wearing a face shield in an effort to halt the spread…
dVerse — Poetics — The Migration Habits of Snow Geese
When at last an ache of joint-swelling freeze crosses the line,I shall fly as the snow goose, to warm, moist watery climesthen bow my weary head in grizzled grey grace to the sun.I’ll waddle muck, then float, weightless on duckweed ponds.I’ll enjoy each still dawn and sunset with other snowbirds,creaks drowned with soothing menageries’ rise…
dVerse — Prosery — Portal
If you are a dreamer, come in. –Shel Silverstein, from Invitation At ten, it was screamed epithets and the rhythmic crack of dad’s belt on her back as she curled on the filthy floor. At twenty, it was the sound of her drunken boyfriend’s fist crunching fine bones in her face. At thirty, it was…
