“William Morris 6” The future gathers in vine, bush, and tree:Persimmon, walnut, loquat, fig, and grape”by Yvor Winters from Time and the Garden Future’s Garden She wakes to coughs, groans, and clanks. Rubbing her eyes, crusted with dust, she winces and wonders how much time she has before her clouded corneas become blindness. Or will…
Category: poetry
Liberty Molested
I created this collage after Roe v. Wade was overturned. Things have gotten so much worse since then. light’s blaze must melt ice while dreaming of heads rolling thoughts congeal with blood
dVerse OLN 388 — It’s a matter of studied speculation
“Tree Roots” by Vincent VanGogh Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots? — Pablo Neruda, Book of questions. It’s a matter of studied speculation. Do mirrored images that ripple surface conceal but illusion? Or is there more? Is it a seeing or is it a doing? What mud must we claw through to…
dVerse — Poetics Tuesday — The Lions of Gotham
photo by Jeffrey Jung The Lions of GothamBrown-maned, tan-skinned,wandering hi-roller clubs,streets, looking for sweets,jonesing for sugar buzzesmost tender when stakes are high. Eyes huntthen swivel to meet their buddy’s in check party mate when spypretty lashed herdbrightto be cut from and pounced.In lazy times, with appetiteby proxy, they releasedesigner coiffed bait cowswith promise of glamourand…
dVerse — Q229 — August Ablaze
August Ablaze Field jabbered with color, texture of a thousand cups; workers transport pollen to hives, nests, nightly rests. Dark, juicy clusters wait along borders, on fences; opportunistic vines climb, others bellicose spreaders who exact blood tolls. August in Michigan, ~ ~ ~ ablaze ~ ~ ~ with an unfiltered, purposeful sun. De is today’s…
The Numbers Game #85
Judy Dykstra-Brown is the host of The Numbers Game. Judy says: Today’s number is 207. To play along, go to your photos file folder and type that number into the search bar. Then post a selection of the photos you find that include that number.
The Oracle Speaks — said the enormous woman
said the enormous woman beneath a blue-pink smeared sky a peachly symphony sweats smooth frantically fingering their apparatus; our headwind panting raw whispers for a spring storm honey moon It’s been awhile since consulting The Oracle. Nice to be feeling the mojo to do it. The Oracle may be consulted here.
Tao Talk 