my mom and my oldest son Every Baby’s Lullaby Let me croon a lullabycoax the open from your eyes.Let your dreams be gentle things;daffodils and bluebird wings.Safely in your cradle sleep;starlight soften midnight’s keep… Sing now, world, to babe, to wakewith kind notes for them to take. I am today’s host of dVerse’ Quadrille Monday,…
Category: poetry
dVerse MTB/Form — Voices in the Wilderness
“Liberty Molested” (2024) Voices in the WildernessVoices keen for aid in snare of wilderness. All can hear the plea, but why don’t we respond?Guilty freezing, dumb; the rest are dumb in bond.Predatory tyranny imprisons us.Patriarchal license, waving magic wands.Voices keen for aid in snare of wilderness.All can hear the plea, but why don’t we respond?Fondled,…
dVerse Prosery Monday — Discovering Warmth
Mia Goth in Frankenstein Not yesterday I learned to knowThe love of bare November daysBefore the coming of the snow,— by Robert Frost, from My November Guest Discovering Warmth Mother and Father are two different parts of the same animal. Mother prowls my form, draping it in loose fabric with high, choking lace collars. Bonnets…
TNG 98 — 220 (photos)
Judy Dykstra-Brown is the host of The Numbers Game. Today we put 220 in our image gallery search box and see what pops up. (look for arrow on right side of image to advance the slide show)
dVerse OLN 395 — Dearest Lake
taken on 110625 Dearest Lake, Upon your sugar shoulders I’ve toddled,chased minnows in your shallows, dugfor clams with growing, waterlogged feet.I’ve squealed, held on on you in ski-boat donuts. My friend had a keep-dry wrap;her hand healing from a barb wired fence.Never far from you, with innumerable rides,drives, innertubes, sailboats; your exhalescasting fishy seaweed stench…
dVerse Poetics — Crafts of Living
Crafts of LivingThe day she realized she couldn’t staybegan to craft a plan to get away meticulously carried out each stepby time he realized it she had lefthe cried a lot but then his rage beganhe crafted ways to punish her and thenit carried on for way too many yearsthe letting go, the cultivating fearsuntil…
POPO 2025 closing, photo of postcards received and cento poem
POetry POstcard (POPO) Festival 2025 was the best one yet, both on the creating and sending and the receiving. There were 31 people on my official list and 3 on my unofficial list. Each of these individuals received a collage postcard put together by me, with a poem that was spontaneously written in the mornings…
Tao-Talk 