“The difference between life and art is art is more bearable.“– Charles Bukowski Embraced heart listensfor time’s prisoner willdie, but you magic me,life breeze my porcelain.Sad poetry pies of warm liquid caramel perfume,your growling whimpersheal my wet window sky. image: found inside a copy of It Catches My Heart, by Charles Bukowski,…
Category: poetry
dVerse — Poetics 438 — Along the Marne, resides…
Bused tourists travel through with cameras, bound to snap shots of old war memorials along the Marne, on our plateau of tears. Some may notice a mound near the banks where polaroid splashes of wildflowers grow. A place where those who live in these parts know resides the remains of trophæum. Reeking, foreign uniforms happened…
dVerse — Haibun 96 — Eagle-Eyes
Not in the present tense and not experienced by me, but still relevant to the prompt, it is about an event that happened with Bob, my ex-boyfriend, and Chauncey, our Boston Terrier, on our sailboat a few years ago. Bob had buoyed offshore in the inland lake we live near. He noticed a bald…
dVerse — MTB 231 — Gone
You fling it open for the first time / but I’m gone– by Mohja Kahf, from “Wall” We toy with each other like seasons:I, blazing, thirsty summer; you, warm brown autumn,until our worlds spin;and you, deep-frozen wintertaunt me, life-craving spring.Consorting with Sol, you trickle down mountain graniteseeking me in the deep pool where…
dVerse — MTB 231 — White tiger
Three white tigers and a bear followed me in after my sworn protector left for reasons unknown. One tiger stood before me in sleek striped majesty. Two with contrasting modes: my terror; her hunger. Her instinct to kill vs. my instinct to survive. Using tiger talk to distract all until able to steel my nerve…
dVerse — Poetics 438 — Grave
Airless and unloved, in the dank basement of the mind by Luisa A. Igloria, from “A Reparation” Flutterings, the authors of which I cannot say; a scent of green or black decay undetermined. Rough tendrils creep from sole to grubby ankle Will I feel a pinch or be heaved from this grave? Today’s offering is…
dVerse — Quadrille 120 — My way
My way is sky, silk blue canvas to white fluff and dark currents;sprays of rose herald day, or grey. My way is earth, organic amalgam,coming and going, vehicle for growing. My waymates are this and that, pungent and sweet; I breathe deep. image: “Where Earth Meets Sky,” by Gina Grundemann I am today’s host for…
Tao-Talk 