My heart was split, and a flower appeared… –King Solomon A mother’s love may be assumed unless she’s dickered with a beast.Foul vapid roach, her soul consigned,a mother’s hate may be assumed.A mother’s bile designs your tomb.Your curdled rose rise, barren, bleak.As mother’s clause ensures your doom,your tender heart split for her feast. I…
Category: poetry
dVerse — Prosery 19 — Hidden Treasure
“Reading what I have just written, I now believe.”–Louise Gluck, from Faithful and Virtuous Night At the time it felt like a dream. One Spring afternoon geocache coordinates took us north an hour and then west for another. GPS dinged we’d reached our destination. Scant undergrowth made it easy to find the two-track. We walked…
dVerse — MTB 228 — Preston’s Rainbow
Reds, greens, yellows dance pirouettes in orange sky over indigo Grace is today’s host for dVerse‘ Meet the Bar. Grace says: The writing challenge: Today we will incorporate music in our poem from the perspective of a synesthete. Create your own Symphony. Infuse your musical experience when listening to a band, artist or musical genre,…
dVerse — Poetics 432 — Squirrel Hunting in the Mountains
Armed with a Canon’s telefoto,sturdy-soled hikers, and a canteenI march forward, led by sun-crackledcottonwood and half-ground beech.Squirrel hunting in the mountainsmeans tracking under treelines,craning for oak-nestand pine-needled apples.Mid-winter Sol stirs their bellies;groggy they crawl, head first.Aboriginal-headed, the many-pelted,silvered, burnt-oranged, blackedcoat warms me, but wool worksas I trudge white tracks backto build a mighty slide show….
dVerse — Quadrille 117 — Waltzing with Fractals
What are yeabiding ingredientin fractal mirrors?What secrets fundmental meander?What makes sunrisea cherished friend?Where do souls plug in? And why?How waltz we with amoeba and stars?What stays when passthis bag of bonesbeyond the dust? top image information: The repeating patterns in a snowflake are a classic example of beautiful, geometric fractals. Now MIT scientists have…
dVerse — OLN — Gone
Gone Gazing out, a stripped landscape gazes back. Houseplants, relieved, grateful to be in, still grieve. Garrulous jays, glass-muted, grouse at feeders fit for wrens. Ghosts of gatherings past haunt grey day; misted memories. image: “November First,” by Andrew Wyeth Sanaa is today’s host for Open Link Night Live.
dVerse — Poetics 431 — Waiting
Waiting “Waiting is.” Heinlein once said. Well, anticipation suckswhen you’re waiting for signs ofwords, followed by actions, towelcome us back to living. Warm, strong arms and maskless smileswander, carefree, in my dreams. image: “Awaiting His Return,” by William Ladd Taylor (1854-1926) Laura Bloomsbury is today’s host for dVerse‘ Poetics. Laura says:1A. Write a poem…
Tao-Talk 