when energy spins away with mother sunmute blanket’s dark dampens our warmthmaker’s kind start: the cold light of snow,a spark that ignites spirits’ lumen glow.we clay take gifts, fashion night to dayand create season’s charged illumination; pull together gatherings for illuminationwith fervent pleas for quick return of sun. wreathes of ever greens light holly days.hat…
Category: poetry
dVerse — Quadrille 166 — “Candy, baby!”
Apple-cheeked, she crunches leaves;her feet map their way to crystal falls. I breathe in; her honey-sweetness is sin. “Candy, baby!” She turns; her lashes bow assent.She minuses shirt, shorts, bootsand says, “Let’s jump in!” Trees whisper over sugared sighs. Directly inspired by Iggy Pop’s song, “Candy.” Mish is today’s host of dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. Mish…
dVerse — Poetics — Winter Things
Badger Tracks photo, © Philip Precey Winter things leave impressionslong after Spring arrives; thawedfootprints of snow, muddy residueof limbic past, when the houndsof winter howled after fresh tracks. Lillian is today’s host for dVerse’ Poetics. Lillian says:You’ve probably guessed by now where this is going. I’d like you to use at least two of the titles…
dVerse — Prosery — The Tender Gray
In the tender gray, I swim undisturbed.by Celia Dropkin, from, “In Sullivan County” I was a first grandchild who basked in the attention of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and the warm light of my parents. The war had ended a few years before my birth. It was a time when food, supplies, and gasoline were rationed….
dVerse — MTB — Mother always knows best.
this, our living dream we huddled ones without a home? flocking, schooling, living rainbows. back then sweet with their secrets of touch and time “We’ve been waiting for you. What took you so long?” We may never know parents weep at graveto death’s fragrant song doom’s dissonant stay No more poem to write today Top…
dVerse — Poetics — Ekphrastic senryu
twirling in freedom sick child dances in heaven parents weep at grave Right now I’m reading George Saunders’ 2017 novel, “Lincoln in the Bardo,” which revolves around Abraham’s son, Willie’s, death as a child and how Willie finds himself in a purgatory-type place called Bardo. Seeing this image immediately made me think of Willie Lincoln….
dVerse — Quadrille 165 — Our Living Dream
Warm colors your smile under blue twinkles. Summer-dreamed lane, shrubs in hula leaf skirts beneath green canopy; hands braille the way. We walk fragrant zones, from humus to spruce; inhale transcendent scent of rose, carried soft as bunny fur, along this, our living dream. top image: “Roses along the path.” by geopsych I am today’s…
Tao-Talk 