dVerse — Quadrille 152 — A Contest Rests

A-drowse I muse, who is cuter asleep, baby fauna or Popeye. Sure, tiny heaving feathered, furred, or terried chests attest affection-stirred endearing as they engine-putter guileless nest; yet knowing benevolent, bell-bottoms-exchanged, in a nightshirted Miss Oyl’s Bluto savior’s dreamland bub bub bubs a contest rests. image link Sarah is today’s host for dVerse’ Quadrille Monday….

dVerse — Quadrille 150 — Final Farewell

image link Her living lingered, her funeral brief; children scattered, peers long gone home. Ghosts’ welcomes await her release from the bronze urn. She’s sprinkled along Spring thunderstorm’s wake, towards the lake. April sun’s comfort warms as it dries; her chalky residue remains, her final farewell. De Jackson, aka whimsygizmo, is today’s host for dVerse’…

dVerse — Quadrille 149 — cloudfish speaks

It matters not the season, awake or asleep, please know me and understand, from grain of sand shifting with water, to morning’s crystals on a blade of grass, to your hands along warm scented skin, my swimming infinity; tender breadcrumbs offered as holy gifts. [44 words] I wanted to use one of my collages to…

dVerse — Quadrille 148 — The Struck Match

  She wasn’t sure whether it was the exhibition or watching the application of brush strokes of each work that obsessed her so. Was it knowing the painter’s paper trail body? Or the way his body moved… Origamic muse prismatic omnipotence imbued by each eye. top image link I decided to write a second quadrille…

dVerse — Quadrille 148 — It figures

Paper, hard forum once mandated, regardless of journey. Describing a kiss or account ledger balance the same. Complain? before it was charcoal etched in dark caves. Today’s paper’s virtual. We tap tap between the lines. Figuring saved or erased by pushing enter or backspace. Top image: Painted Cave Art of the Chumash Indians Indigenous peoples…

dVerse — Quadrille 147 (2) — Is that you, Mo-Dean?

At first it seemed to be a dream; a blinding eye coiffed in black. My first thought: they’re back. Stalked peer of metallic goon is more than holo in my sleep as a scream begins to creep up the back of my paralyzed throat. This is my second offering for Bjorn’s prompt word for dVerse…

Dverse – Quadrille 147 – These Eyes

To take a photograph is to align the head, the eye and the heart. It’s a way of life. ~ Henri Cartier-Bresson In twos, borne sclera grapes, socket twins, camera duets note lens shifts. Panoptic seas, eagles to snails, eyes of newborn until final closing. In color surprises to weepy accepts discern silhouettes; sweet Arbus…