Rising from the soil as Kun rises from water a green furred dragon. Brown scales gleam when she rests, as heaven’s grace flows to and fro. Lillian is today’s host of dVerse’ Open Link Night. One of my old co-workers in the juvenile probation officer job ended up leaving and putting his teaching degree to…
Category: poetry
Haikai Challenge 194: clear [spring-] water (shimizu)
First attempt at a tanka haiga. Frank J. Tassone is the host of Haikai Challenge. Frank says:This week, write the haikai poem of your choice (haiku, senryu, haibun, tanka, haiga, renga) that alludes to clear [spring-] water (shimizu).
dVerse — Poetics — Risk!
When more adrenalin than blood coursed through her veinsshe crawled from her bed past the partying carnies. It was worth the risk, as a small promise was made and stored in a soon-forgotten niche of her heart…………………………………….. ………………………………………She’d clawed her way back to it,led by cryptic clues on tattered dream sticky notes. Fishin so many…
dVerse — Prosery — The Sound of Water
“Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.”–from Jo Harjo’s “A Map to the Next World.” Gil woke curled in a dark place, lying on her side, hearing the sound of trickling water. Opening her eyes, she felt dried crusted tears breaking loose. Her wrists were bound behind her….
The Sunday Muse 163 — Cello Girl
The cicadas awake to see peonies bloomas the girl with the cello plays songs in the park;where their drones rise with ginger sweet, scented perfume; metronomes setting time with the random dog’s bark.Lovers lie in soft grass / fingers trail arms and cheekswhere the assembled chorus remains until dark. At the edge of the park…
dVerse — Poetics — Grandma’s Baby Saturday
Thursday began as any other morning, when the breeze blew in this morning. Cats figure-eight my first sit-spot as cats are wont to do. The coffee brews. Outside, look up, not blue; storm brews? Stirring cream into the hot steaming mug, stirring emotions swirl; Saturday is baby. Not quite eight weeks old, Saturday my…
dVerse — MTB — Curwood Castle
Day trip, along two roads of perpendicular straight lines,cuts through endless fields, punctuated by bergsand a prison. One way ends and then begins curves;first anchored by a rectangle that serves as a dash between a poetry of smooth golden-rodded turrets’ curves.Inside, heavy, burnished oak of narrow staircases curlever upward; tree repurposed to vine. At last,…
Tao-Talk 