Blessings

 

With my thick mittens & woollen socks,

I settle to read your letters, warm

as redbush tea, toasted sweet corn bread

You bring spark, skylight, sugar bush smells

Gloomy rain clouds blur in festive hues

I become playful child, curious as snail

and I thank you, this morning* (again)

*Inspired by poem by David Whyte in Blessings

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:   Poetry form of Kwansaba & Blessings

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!!!  See you on January 3, 2022.

A pill for amentalio in winter

 

between the hours of mid-

night and dawn,

sad thoughts float in the etherness

between the lines of stories

sentiments surge with violet beats

tiding low, a murmuration

of black birds skimming 

just above the dotted water line

i am caught in kenopsia, weathered

wings in stillness

my tongue tied in heartspur of

ticking white clock

i drift into a starlone of fathomless

quietude, a cycle of dreaming

and undreaming-

i am nameless, ageless

convinced that i am swirling

into lisolia limbo

shrugging away craxis of pixelled

gravity screens & instant gratification from

metaverse

between light and darkness

make this wave in my mind

a weave with the universe

a thread to break away from aphasia

a matter to soothe the aftergloom

that even with my excelled tinselled fingers,

i can still long to be that comet

hurling headlong in blazing dust

[to where]

a heartmoor

i know it is there

its there

[we are here]

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, hosted by Linda Lee Lyberg.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

saturday's weathertide

 

we make merry of gloom

        -holiday songs-

        -folding cards with red-bowed

                      tinsel-

         

but howling wind shakes   

trees with vengence

for some minutes,

         -lights were out-

all house's hollows, nooks

lost its s     

             h       

                a

                  p

                       e 

bleeding into darkness

         -our eyes fog, blind-

but for half-moon  

    glittering silverblue

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Mish.  This is a 44 word poem with the chosen word, TINSEL. Thanks for your visit and comments.

sound of the wind

white kettle hisses

as fading yellow leaves fall-

owl hoots are lost in moth's wings-

wind whistles long refrain-

rose bush slumps, hushing chickadees-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form.  The elements of the Wayra are:

1.a pentastich, a poem in 5 lines.

2.syllabic, 5-7-7-6-8

3.unrhymed.

Additional challenge is to incorporate onomatopoeia (sounds) in the wayra poem.  Thanks for the visits and comments.

a moonscape

 

i peer at the moon 

above the maple trees, glowing  

with light, waxing with near fullness

[i want to be her]

in the room, i continue my search 

for that missing 

family photo frame decades old,

misplaced red & festive jars

as if my tired hands are Christmas

lights, coaxing the warmth out 

of the cold winter night

my energies spent 

blank_blank_blank

e-shopping carts empty

blank_blank_blank 

i sit

on the chair, 

turning to my comforts:

reading & writing

immersed in the fictional world

a phrase lingers

a word flares up

a poetic line shimmers with familiarity 

and behold,

my fingers are pressing the keys

& trying to capture the

tide's ebb and flow

[i spawn the ocean-

i paint moon flowers pure as snow-

i seed the red soil

with chameleon dust & sunflowers]-

there is a shock of silver, a falling 

star

& the certainty:

inside me, a universe

moving in rhythm

& ever 

abundant

Note:  I woke up early early morning to see a flash of a falling light outside the window, which I like to believe is a falling star.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:  Poetics:  Epiphany in the Time of Holiday with guest host - Dora.   The virtual pub doors open at 3pm EST.  

Thanks for your visits and comments.

what the gods saw

 

he was sugar-coated

in gold

to behold him

a god

when the sun strikes his

muscled chest and legs

he posed

still as a sky cloud

caught between currents

as painters around him

buzz as bees circling, hungry for

honey

even though he is a skilled actor

poised as delicious cake puff

he could not veil

his eyes

she saw what no else saw

her fingers became his mirror

her brush became his 

raw 

poetry

in her canvas, he was a

bird in a cage

colorful feathers flickered out

& weighed 

down by black ink, her 

oils dripped

dripping

until it resembles

the swelling tear 

clouds

his eyes

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.

Thanks for your visits and comments.

a grandma's recipe

into the glass jar,

i assemble the shredded

red cabbage and pour

the brine

of spices & apple

cider vinegar

with sliced carrots & garlic

& finally

with summer's last bulb

of sunshine

i close the lid

on pickled condiment jar

until one cold autumn night-

we open and inhale its zesty

earthly flavor

on our plates of crumbling taco shells

& home-made soup of creamy 

butternut squash-

i taste home

Posted for dVerse Poetics - Concrete or Abstract, hosted by Ingrid.  The writing challenge:   I want you to write a poem using only concrete nouns, subject matter and imagery. For the purposes of this exercise, the following words are banned: soul, love, lust, dreams, sorrow, suffering, heartache, wonder, etc. 

Thanks for your comments and visits.

Waning crescent moon, Nov. 1

 

garden bed sighs

of dead petals & fallen leaves

we let the echoes of

departing birds 

pingpong our words

as daylight careens into shadows

and veil our tawdry  

sunflower-lit crown

let's scarf down 

into the autumnal darkness

& slow dance under

second-hand star lights 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Quadrille, hosted by Lillian Hallberg.  This is a 44 word post with the chosen word, careen.  Thanks for the visit.  

mirror reflections

in the mirror,

your face 

is staring back at me

a line across your forehead

furrowed as mine

your eyes hardset as gravel

your thin mouth snarling,

a loaded gun

i fear the words tipping

out of my own lips

a thunderbolt

of energy, sharp gust of adrenalin

uncontained

i tie my curly hair back

as if to rein in myself

amidst the rising

fear and frustration

but when i put my hand

over my heart,

i

know

it beats 

differently-

soft as raindrops

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OLN, hosted by Linda Lyberg.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

the puppeteer

 

covers the small stage set

with canvas, his aged hands

folding away wires, strings,

brushes & paints on shelves

clanks

in meticulous beats as his

pocketwatch, precise

as his master list of lists-

autumn night settles in 

with ghostly musty air

his robe is 

immaculate in its whiteness

as he pats the summer's gold coins 

in his pockets,

he closes the room

muttering words only the wind

hears, 

the shop

floorboards heave, a big exhale,

a little movement, here

& there, a twitch & spasm

finally

the puppets are stirring awake

each wrinkled pumpkin face

with zombie eyes

is a flicker of energy

as they search 

scramble

for their chords & clicks

for their sinews & sticks

(where are our memory cards?)

shaking, jerking, falling tragically 

as the moon

watches

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics - Halloweeny Humans hosted by Lisa Fox. 

A commentary on the way social media giants manipulates and spins our lives with algorithms, sending us deep into webs of addictions and superficial lives.  

Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

view of the lighthouse, she

 

wakes up early in the morning

light feet, folding neat her mourning

clothes, sunlight

flickers through the window, swelling

with strange joy of queen bee's dwelling-

the skylight

strokes her skin with sepia gunny

paints her dark-rimmed eyes with honey-

no floodlights

can dim her firm hands to move past

her grief & hold laughter to last-

the firelight

grows despite each stormy night, sure

as stern clock, she waits by the moor

with starlights

~~~~~

From the dVerse Poets Pub

moonlighting

i pull the curtains aside to 

witness the glorious light, you brew

the moondust

over the bubbling sky, darkness

is poised, letting us string stillness

in moonbeams 

under yellow maple trees, we

write poems, sip our tea and plea

with moonsongs 

let the grey clouds wander & slip

let the lake waters rise & dip

the moonstones

shine our faces bright, stark blue

touch our feet with stars, we flew 

with mooneyes

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form:  Compound Word Verse.  This is a 15 line poem with the verse (aab rhyming scheme and 8-8-3 meter).  See the example here.  Thanks for the visit and comments.

scattered

we are stonewashed 

          by                river 

we are blistered grey

                       by              wind

yet you warm 

gaping hole           inside         our chests

           with tenacity of sunflower

bowed black

    seeds    all      stewed                 out

but standing tall,           unyielding

rid   our eyes

of                  ash

stir our words:       worthier           gladder 

<bravehearts>

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Sarah Connor.  This is a 44 word post, with the chosen word, ASH.   Thanks for the visit and comments.

Autumn

 

i.

the day the leaves

turn sulpher red, tangy

tangerine, gingerbread mums-

the day i fall, into you 

ii.

inhale deeply  

crunch, crinkle, wrinkle

before the northern wind passes

& still the fallen leaves 

iii.

exhale the city smoke

& dirt from whirling machines

i wrap myself with russet blankets

and read your letters, ambered in time

iv.

birds fly as sunlight wanes

on maple trees gleaming with autumn

hues, bright as orange pumpkins 

adorning our doors, with toothless grins 

v.

another season to mark 

from summer to autumn:   i

embrace the changes

(in) me, (in) you

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg - Cadralor, a new poetry form.   Join us at 3pm EST for more information and check out other cadralor poems.   Thanks for your comments & visits.  

Our mother under the sun

 

we are scattered pebbles and wild grains spilling

we are wayward leaves and crushed jasmine leis 

you lift our hands to warmth, with light that shines 

the brightest of all, the sun, we spread our wings to fly

to you, smothering us in your motherly embrace 

to you, forgiving our ills, transgressions & doubts

we are broken trees & cracked mirrors of ourselves

we are forgotten children & cast-offs of the citystreets

yet you raise our faces to the sky, not even rainclouds

can eclipse your heart of gold, humble yet so holy, we 

cannot imagine the terror of your absence,

not even for a day, we strive to hear your words

in prayerful songs, we offer our misfortunes to you

open our hearts so we may be gatherer of seeds, 

dancing to flutes and drums of devotions

peacefully sitting in our lotus pose, our faces flowing

with gratitude, despite our lables: outcast, leper, poor

with you, we find our wellspring of faith

in silence, suffering with us in our nothingness

in darkness, comforting us until our dying breath

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:   Exploring the genre of Panegyric Poetry, hosted by Sanaa Rizvi.

A tribute to Mother Teresa and her kind of service and charity. 

judgement day

Brimstone was cast into fathomless edge as a lantern flickers

down, fading out.  

Lightning strikes at godless trees.  Violent wind plucks

eyeless wings.

We watch our skin bristling darkness, caking our eyes

yellow-red, cunning with stubbon will

as our fervent beliefs. 

(Hero.)

(Fallen 

angel.) 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson.   Kindly join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   This is a 44 word post with the chosen word STONE.   Thanks for visiting.

agape

harvest moon, cast your magic spell-

moonshine above the trees, we'll dwell

on your milky dreams, do not tell

us poets that we cannot write

myths, songs & sonnets of black knights,

sad ballads of yesterdays, sprites

enamored with lost love, don't quell  

our secrets, so we may tear

down books & canvas with no fear-

torch monuments with our spears-

only pen letters that moves, swells

our ribs to waves of darkest sea

our heart with songs by the bees

our feet to stardust, far & free 

we hold you - a pearl, breathing shell

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:   Poetry Form is Zéjel is a Spanish form with Arabic influence.  The pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Info about the form:

Here are the basic rules for zejel:

First stanza is a tercet (3-line stanza) with an AAA rhyme scheme

All other stanzas are quatrains (4-line stanzas) with a XXXA rhyme scheme, so the second stanza would be BBBA, third CCCA, fourth DDDA, and so on to the end of the poem

Lines are usually 8 syllables long

Wings over the sky

 

i blued over your heavenly feathers

with all the tender songs 

now as autumn wind 

paints 

sunflowers brown

green leaves to ochre 

roses to crushed velvet black

and sky calls you

with aubergine & red-orange sunsets

i will linger

by the door, gathering seeds

Dried Hydrangea @ Grace

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #136, Let's Linger, hosted by Linda Lyberg.   This is a 44 word post with the selected word, Linger.   Join us with your quadrille poem.

Reminders

 

i stress with things mundane as losing keys

please remind me to forgive myself more

when i am forgetful and on my knees

tell me to stand up & open the door

i bang my head trying to be calm, cool 

please remind me I am a groovy bee

when i stray from straight lines and rigid rules

and fall on slimy steps under the tree

tell me to hold myself gently,(&) sip tea

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Laura Bloomsbury.  Novelinee consisting of a nine-line stanza in iambic pentameter (or several) in iambic pentameter with rhyme scheme a,b,a,b,c,d,c,d,d.

Moonrise

 

I walk towards the lapping waves, calling the night my muse  

I swallow the moonlight & taste the effervescene of the pink plumerias;

hush now, you

are rippling limbs & shadowed eyes, suttered in mystery

Yet, stilled in blue, the words quiver in my throat

What was I about to say & do, my love?  

I hesitate & let the unspoken be,  jousting with the wind.  My arms droop at my sides, falling petals, instead of casting spells & weaving stardust

The electricity of the unknown died, and I let the safe harbors of the crowd 

embraced me.  Plugged me to the drone of bright city lights.   

Looking back now, I have left my coat on rocky shores, marked with hues 

and shades of fushcia sin; 

each one a reminder of the kind of person I would have been*.  The wildness 

never called me again.

* Original line:  " I have left my signatures on rocky shores, marked with hues and shades of fushcia sin; each one a reminder of the kind of person I have been."  Of the waters and wild by Sanaa Rizvi

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  Dundgeons and Derivatives, hosted by Sanaa Rizvi.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Autumn's afternoon

sky is stirring a broth

of thunderclaps

& cumulonimbus clouds

mellowing the street lights 

with muddy shade

of autumn

ground is mulched

with dead 

annuals & grooved twigs

too deep to smooth over

with yesterday's sun-

shine songs

instead we tally

each falling

                    <leaf>

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson.    This is a 44 word post with the given word, GROOVE.   Join us when the pub doors at 3pm EST.  

September

 

a quiet settles

on parks, playgrounds &

wheat field

where do we purchase

to prolong this summer light

& savor the glorious coat of green

we count the wild sun-

flowers & goldenrods yellowing the trail

& wild teasels, with their empty

seed heads, bowing to the cool wind

we fold sorrows 

in deep pockets

as old letters fade

delicate as amber veins

on a fallen maple leaf

the hours go on, un-

shaken by mortal breath,

under the bridge, the river flows un-

tallowed by our thoughts 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Thank you for your visits and comments.

fractional puzzling reflection

 

we are light and darkness

expending energy - inhale, exhale -

dreaming of stardust, cottonweeds, gardens,

oak trees that touch the sky, but what of the

nadir of our ills, sufferings, wars;  what do we 

own and know of ourselves & others & where to start?

tinged with fatigue, i jot a (maybe) list:   

keel to the waves, kneel in silence of the ruins,  

nurture my sadness, plant my flag of surrender, as no

one has all the answers to our questions, 100% of the time:

we do not know (& that is alright) 

to ask the question

first than seeking the perfect answer, i claim amnesia

when i rise in the morning from my bed,

pondering the world:  nothing is simple as abracadabra !

For Dverse Poets Pub:  Poetics:  For the Love of Puzzles by Lillian.   This is also an Acrostic Plus.   Please check my hidden message.

Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

late summer

 

meet me under the apple trees

bulging with greening fruits & berries bold

as afternoon sun rusts the skylight 

as the maple leaves amber gold

i breathe in - scents of late summer roses,

fading mint leaves, seedheads fluffy & white

as the maple leaves amber gold

as afternoon sun rusts the skylight

clock chimes into early autumn

i watch shadows lengthen & fold

as afternoon sun rusts the skylight 

as the maple leaves amber gold

let's ramble the road with daisies

and swap stories as birds on flight 

as the maple leaves amber gold

as afternoon sun rusts the skylight

Maple Leaves 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form:   Mirrorred Refrain.    

The poem is formed by three or more quatrains where two lines within the quatrain are the "mirrored refrain" or alternating refrain.   The rhyme scheme is as follows: xaBA, xbAB, xaBA, xbAB, etc..x represents the only lines that do not rhyme within the poem. A and B represent the refrain.

Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the comments and visits.

bones from the sunken ship

 

lay me down

on craggy rocks, where cedar and pine trees 

veil the blue sky

let my bones be salted

by seagulls & shrunken dried by sun & clouds 

i will float

not a lost map

nor a ghost from 18th century sunken ship

but to the vibrancy 

of turquoise waves &

woodpecker's incessant tapping 

on pine tree

Big Tub Harbour, Tobermory

Posted for dVerse Poets, OpenLinkNight, hosted by Mish.   I just came back from my vacation in Tobermory, Ontario and some of the lines are taken from my time there.  Thanks for the comments and visits.

{what he said}

 

meet me here - where wild teasels grow

& common daisies preen, queen's glow

where wild flowers tarry & slow

blazing king's row, blazing king's row

you glide in, butterfly bright coat

i am bare as half moon, my throat

a bait & you took all - you stoat!

left me in moat, left me in moat

Butterfly at wild teasel

Grace@Everydayamazing

Posted for dVerse poets pub - Poetry Form, MonoTetra, which was developed by Michael Walker.  Had a fun time writing this one.  Thank you for your visits and comments.

the muse & i

 

smelling of dark violets, messy hair leans over my shoulder

hand-knotting threads, tumbling unkempt, wayward as she

whose red lips startles me, whose eyes look eerily familiar, i

wait for her to drawl or holler at me her moon-kept secrets

but she is silent, leaves me empty pages & pink crumbs of doubts 

come dawn, she nudges me, to walk outside & breathe in the rain, i

do, inhaling tendril of knotweeds, lace puff of wild carrots, seeds

of myself

Wild Carrot & Grape Leaves

@EverydayAmazing

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, Who's Your Muse by host Ingrid of Experiements in Fiction.   My own personal muse(s) have been changing over time but I guess it is part of my journey.   Thank you for your visits.

Be(coming)

 

this room is a river

of your imagination

make it sing tall as a cathedral

make it boom as loud as firecrackers

make your fingers blue with music

be the refrain of the song

better yet, be the song

be the book's prologue 

be the story

be the poem

be the kite of children's watercolor wishes

be the candlelight

be the softball of change

be the mustard seed of charity

be the flower of forgiveness

be the garden of butterflies & fireflies

be the forest of lost & wandering things

be the dandelion among the sunflowers

be the thunderbolt of storms

be the raindrop on empty fishpond

be the curious fish

be the green in the blue lake

be the womb of dying stars

be the hands who prepares the bread

be the spice whistling in the pot

be the wine of your fruit harvest

be the black bold ink on canvas

becoming you

can be the ripple, step, fold, click, wrinkle

or it can be boundless leaps to the sea edge

of your imagination

be

Peony@EveryAmazing

Well I can go on forever.   If you want to add a line or two in the comments, feel free to do so.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Meet the Bar with Chant Poetry hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.   Thanks for your comments.

no benches in this garden

 

her face is a red

   bee(t)

her eyes are sky-

   lights

holding summer

with her hands -

reds, violets, pinks & yellow sun-

   flowers

common & breezy, plucked 

   from the garden

not peonies-caped in neat rows

not blue ivy tended by gloved gardeners

nor rose-potted in wooden plant boxes

but from open field

along walking & biking trails

\\where seeds, grape leaves & herbs spring

escaping from botanical gardens//

i

bade her a {goodmorning} smile

& 

drink in

her calmness

her happy strides

her weighlessness of cares

& walk towards

where she came from

there's plenty still

    to gather the wheatgrass & knot

wildflowers draping the field

    with worts, weeds & bugs

perfusing perfume:

    sunshine from birdsongs 

    & musk perfectly mulched from wasps

a harvest by creekside, until the sun 

    sweats

                gold on 

                             my arms

Posted for the dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  Garden(ing) with Claudia Schoenfeld as our special host in celebration of the 10th  year anniversary of dVerse!  Come join us for a gardening treat at 3pm EST.  

mood on a hiking trail

huge mushrooms

unsettle me

as caterpillars hanging

from maple trees

wooden path opens

and I

<back pocket> map

ring, metallic click

from somewhere afar

wafts, soft rock from

jukebox 

my mind turn/s/table  

steps turn brisk, nimble

as sparrows, I shimmy

to ballads 

                

                                                       Happy 10th Anniversary!

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille with Brian Miller as our special guest host as part of our 10th year anniversary celebration.  Quadrille is a 44 word post with a given word - JUKE.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thank you for your comments and visits.

Under the spell of the Pink Moon

 

Pink moon, rising above the Great Lake

Blue our sun-freckled faces with waves

Soft as lavender, we are star lights

Pink moon, rising above the Great Lake

Draw care & patience on our hands

We are red-berried by nectar & bees

Pink moon above the Great Lake

Lavish our words with joyful birdsongs

We are wildflowers, lush & lusty

*Great Lake - refers to our Ontario Lake.   We visit the lakeshore every weekend.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight LIVE, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Please join us starting at 3pm EST.  The dVerse communicty will be on a 2 week summer break.  See you on July 12, 2021 for a special anniversary celebration!!!

summer

 

it is summer and i count back-

wards

the wintry clouds 

a midnight blanket

i fluff & huff

darkness to fold away 

shadows to box up

this rain is spring 

in my measuring cup 

i salt the soil with seeds

lightness to drink from

brightness to smudge with

this sun is mad ball

of fire

wrinking my skin to red

clay, muddy brown & yellowing 

leaves

i marvel the sky

an umbrella of majestic russet shades

this sun wrapped hours, i savor

while drinking cool water

this summer is a jar 

bathed in wilted lemon

                                  flowers

i count back-

wards                                    

                                                        

Inspired by Ernest Hemingway's quote:  It is very hard to write this way, beginning things backward…

–The Torrents of Spring (1926)                                         

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - One True Sentence, hosted by Lisa Fox.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

flights of fancy

imagine this  - your body lifting fancy free

to fields, as if you are seeder of words 

to sky, as if you are gatherer of cottonweeds

to sea, as if you are fisher of night stars

to fields, as if you are seeder of words

knuckled & knotted, you lay them on canvas

wielding ink & pen, you blade them to exotic fruits

to sky, as if you are gatherer of cottonweeds

tying a bouqet of wildflowers & sunflowers

you find your footing, right here, drawing ships

to sea, as if you are fisher of night stars

floating in the primal scream of your longing, you

fly on stilettos!  you bead starlight all the way to the moon!

                                                              by Catrin Welz-Stein

   

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Trimeric form which was invented by Dr. Charles Stone.   Please join us when the pub door opens at 3pm EST.

Briefly, flowers

 

smudge me with your 

                                  light

truffled pink

whorled alabaster 

i am newborn

as unrhymed 

                                  word

press upon me

courage of mustard seeds

tenacity of  greens

hope of pods & pear 

                                 trees

dappled in fading 

honeysuckle,

to cradle divinity

       blossoming

in

split-seconds

       falling

                  fallen

                                stars

Peony from my garden

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Mish.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Risk of burning the moon

here is paint box

where my shadows lurk 

shaped of black candles & stiff

broken wings

i put on the gloves of

anger & sadness within me

this hard seed of hurt

is deeply rooted, rimming

brimming my wildflowers to rot

i risk it all out in the canvas

altar of regrets

dry rust of barren earth

prickled words wombed from streets-

f__k this stupid shit!

the bloom of my skin turn

to knots

to twisted violet

until the violent wind dies within me

pale & half-apologetic

this mirror of myself

a burnt pendant moon

a wintered darkness

i own it, 

& learn to live with it

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, Taking a Risk by guest Host, Tricia Sankey.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your comments.

Keeper of keeps

settle me, leafy & limber as grape vines

upon pillows of leaves, a symmetry of green

i breath in your cool breath, light, green

on greening maple and oak trees, sky

clocks the long hours of daylight

rosy long hours of sunlight

in your greenness, i taste salt

of earth, & summer sun salting 

my skin to brown, to flowering blooms, to pierce

my heart as a pear tree of flowering blooms, so fierce

for what am i without you

empty greenhouse, without you, greening

me with a thread of fire, greening

with threads of fire

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - MTB:  To turn again, about turn again.   This challenge about epiphora, is hosted by Laura Bloomsbury.   Playing with repetition to drive home the theme & message.

Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

The mangoes of our lives

 

on my palm, you are sun

goddess made by the tropical

gods in their dreams

i cut you

across your seed

lengthwise

as your yellowing juice

drips & tinges

my fingertips of heavenly

sweetness

some would even

cut your flesh into little squares

to be spooned into

desserts light & creamy as clouds

but by the streets & shores

of hardy farmers, fishermen & tradesmen

we holler for you

salivating over

your hard green

skin of unripeness

a tartness to rouse our tongues

to firehouse

of bitter-sour flavor

the earth has pickled in your seed

either freshly picked

or mixed with diced tomatoes,

onions, chiles and

shrimp paste sauce,

a side dish

for grilled fish and fried meats

under cool shades

of coconut trees,

your greenness gives us

roots

salt of our skin

browning under the burning sun

Source

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - How to cut a pomegrante, hosted by Kim M. Russell.  Join us for a fruity prompt when the pub doors open by 3pm EST.