thick drops of wet plop on the dusty greenhouse glass night storm brings cool air wind chimes as fulfilled promise hopeful times are here
Category: poetry
dVerse — Poetics — This is Nuts
Falling off the wagon sometime in mid-late June While the house watchdogs slept, I struck out for Forbidden late night snack under sugar plum moon I skulked noir urban jumble, fumbling for my cash Thirsty ear piqued for tunes at speak easy dance, By moon’s shine, I sought cursed, dastardly mash Alas, that whisky barrel…
dVerse — OLN LIVE — No Such Thing July 2022
He always said“I wish I would have known you before”(…I became a monster.)There was genuine regret in his voice. The first movie we watched together–his place/choice– was, “No Such Thing”(as monsters.)It was a template for his self-perception. As he was cuffed in the back of the cruiser,headed for jail for busting up the house,he…
dVerse — Poetics — The dragon is a fractal.
The dragon is a fractal. The dragon is a fractal? That which has been regarded at an end has revealed its infinity. It’s not a dot-eyed twin small fry wiggling in waterways that one day bursts into the sky. It’s dragons all the way down and flies high beyond high. What associated lexicography is to…
dVerse — Prosery — Great Aunt Zi
she’d had it sliced away leaving a scar –Michael Donaghy, from his poem, Liverpool Lili remembers the family story, where her Grandmother Char’s grandmother planted the ginkgo tree the day Char was born. The sapling, a scrawny thing that grew with a misshapen trunk, was like her, misshapen. Char remembers how her aunts surveyed the…
TSM 219 — apothecary (troiku form)
Fused sands of time form bottles on a shelf; tai chi apothecary. Fused sands of time formed emptiness of uselessness; filled with starts and ends. Bottles of tai chi where potent dawns and dusks swirl a cosmic perfume. Apothecary: remedies, distilled wisdom of great mother’s all. Troiku form. Written in honor of Beverly Crawford, a…
dVerse — MTB/Form — Celebrating the Eleventh Anniversary of dVerse
our appointed place, in our dappled green lane, where violet-fringed cobblestones, grounding, end; with ready welcomes to toast, wordsmith, and play as we grok with cosmical themes, forms, and friends from sand to spires, from woe to joys explicate where muses waft, fragrant zephyrs on the wind cozied where ideas flow, invigorate; heaven’s ears perk…
Tao-Talk 