Kenopsia: the atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet. One hundred and six. Campsites, that is;with a sugar hump of dunes betweenthem and a freshwater sea.March first begins claiming dibsas fingers square-dance to ticking timersfaster than ticket nabbing to see Pearl Jam.The first weekend in June…
Category: poetry
dVerse – Quadrille Monday #142 – Falling
Falling Tinsel flutters among sun baublesslicing wounds upon the dead, yetlost in his head he wanders, blind. Son’s bittersweet meanderingslikewise cling to bright marblesin half-sunk goo of clotted blood. Trapped in the present’s purgatorya son leaves; a man dies alone. I watched the 2020 film, “Falling,” which is written, directed, produced and starring Viggo…
Ghost flowers (tanka)
“Blue Moon Lotus,” by Kate Hungerford Ghost flowers twinkle in my silvered wake; luna’s reign gleams soft yet bright; almost home, I pause and raise a jug, toasting her tethered stars. I learned today that some white water lilies bloom at night and are called ghost flowers.
TSM 190 — Death Settles on this Night
death settles on this night,when his mind gets justright. cold fog puffs to gauze- cushioned sighs; he smiles.when his mind gets justright, death conjures life; his bare toes dance in lightto angelic voices; soul flies as his life becomes dust. Carrie is today’s host of The Sunday Muse.
dVerse — OLN #305 Live! and earthweal OLW #96 — Dispelled
Padding along cushioned unfamiliarwhere fungi creeps unmolested alongfallen limbs from long-distant lake gusts My blue gps dot with flashlight incrementsthe pixel-dashed trail scalloping theinland lake to the marked ruin of tribes and boys. Carved cold granite icon topatriarchal rights of domains and souls.Resting on the crumbling concrete baseof a dining hall that fed the damned…
dVerse — Poetics — Blessed Beneficence
This summer lawn mowing season went fairly smoothly. With front, back, and side lawns and front and back fields to be mowed on the rider, regardless of what time of day and level of cloud and hat cover, it was invariably a relaxing, meditative experience. Except for that day. The loud, vibrating mower rolled towards…
dVerse — Prosery — Bad Girls
I dress in their stories patterned and purple as night–from “When We Sing of Might,” by Kimberly Blaeser I pick one up at the runaway shelter. Another from her granny’s house. One from court-approved fictive kin’s house. The one picked up from the detention center is pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Wednesday is…
Tao-Talk 