detours

 

it was the road, the

odd shape

of detours, of

camouflaged hands

that could not hold the

soulful beat

of blues, tyranny of

language denting the heart

it was the pause, the

crease of unopened letters

unsettling, of

stories shaping me, my

path, my name

Original poem:  Driftwood by Sara Teasdale

My forefathers gave me
My spirit's shaken flame,
The shape of hands, the beat of heart,
The letters of my name.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:  Poetry Form - Golden Shovel.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

morning bird notes

i.

spring hides from the window 

the fog is a film

in noir

bathed in memories of tulips & blue irises

(no birds in sight)

ii.

gusts &                thunderstorms

are the weather

heavy-lidded eyes

peek from sleep delirium     & then lapse   

(a fallen feather)  

iii.

the trees

are sticks & stilts & empty 

canvas

awaiting the slight brush of      spring

(a bird song trills)

iv.

what spell is this

to wake up with bones fresh & fevered

my fingers    are running    faster

than i can           catch                   up

sage smoke & songs      

from spring rain to sloshing river

(a cardinal on the fence)

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub -Zuihitsu, hosted by Merril Smith.  Thanks for the visits and comments.

December Tableau

 

I unbox gold trees

trimmed festive red bows

there are amber lights

tricking my eyes - moon-

seeds or neon lights-

cold nights, fevered dreams- 

December blues paint

falling snowflakes from

silver dusted sky

still the heat of you

remains - pillows, book-

marks,  coffee-stained mugs

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - MTB - Picture This in Six, hosted by Laura Bloomsbury.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm.

November morning

 

November morning unfolds

heavy fog, drizzled grey sky, strewn apple seeds -

northern wind grows bleak and old

as maple trees stand bare, beads

of light knuckled by darkness, stalk-thin as reeds

Winter season turns the field

to ice; rose shrubs to broken sticks, fluff to stone-

the weeping willow, half-keeled,

waits out the cold, still alone

we stumble in thick socks, knitting warmth from bone

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form is Spanish Lira.  This is a stanza form of 5 lines, with 7-11-7-7-11 using the consonant rhyme of aBabB.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thank you for your visits and comments.

autumn musings

 

who braided willow’s hair and left a shoe? 

a question sways beneath October’s breath. 

sky flickers blue where red and gold shine through, 

the sun drifts slow along the edge of death

each leaf unbuttons light the season knew

crab apple tree binds glass in morning grains

as if the sea once hummed beneath its veins.

the forest ferns hold silence in its sleeves

soft needles fold the world in tender chains

what does earth dream on, beneath fallen leaves?

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form is Dizain.   Thanks for visiting and commenting!   

travel notes

 

empty

my pockets are

not, not when red leaves fall

on fern-bogged trails, my hands gather

feathers,

pinecones,  

blue-green river 

tides, snow-capped mountains, trees,

birdsongs, sky's blue, my chest swelling-

joy-packed

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - MTB:  Cinquains Revisited, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

becoming

you wanted lines to be perfect

yarning silk to flawless hues

yet your face is moody spring, unkempt 

yearning for moon's kiss & blues

observe the shedding of olive skin 

obtuse as words you scrawled on walls              

offer sage leaves & feathers, & spin

oats & seeds, the wild voice calls

begin each day with tender hands

bathing in light, forgiving yourself 

bedazzle with larks, jiggle run on sands 

becoming is chaos, off-the-shelf

enter at-your-own risk show, you scrap

endurance with pride, & you also fall 

endless times, until you fly without a map

edging lakes, you cup palms & call-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry form is Trolaan.  Thanks for your comments and visits.

Widow's Last Winter

 

Death - come & cover me - burs & soft twine   

Turning feet to plum,  bones to earth - bury

My face under orchid's sun, wild cherry 

My body is bent tree, crowing to wind

Pining to fly & ride the last ferry   

Death - come & cover me - burs & soft twine  

Turning feet to plum,  bones to earth - bury

This weighted sadness, blue trimmed with iced-rime

Spinning legs more than I care to carry  

Recalling a love, sweet as mulberry

Death - come & cover me - burs & soft twine   

Turning feet to plum,  bones to earth - bury

My face under orchid's sun, wild cherry 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Poetry Form is English Madrigal. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. Thank you for your comments and visits.

October's spells

Autumn, what is my name

Autumn, what is my name

I am scatterseed, fruit of October

I am scatterseed, fruit of October

I am of Autumn's fruit, scatterseed 

October, what is my name 

Moon-scarred, I coax sunflower spells

Moon-scarred, I coax sunflower spells

Cleave me to light

Cleave me to light

Spells cleave me to sunflower

I coax light, moon-scarred

Darkness is a  cocoon wrapping the night

Darkness is a  cocoon wrapping the night

Making me soft as milkwitch

Making me soft as milkwitch

The night is making me soft as milkwitch

Wrapping darkness, a cocoon  

Autumn spells I coax - scatterseed, moon-

scarred sunflower in October

What light cleave me, I am

Of soft fruit of darkness, I am

Making a cocoon, wrapping the night

Milkwitch is my name

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- We are writing Paradelle, a poetry form.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm.     Thanks for your visits and comments.

September sky

paint me a sky of apple green & red         

as flocks of geese fly off as summer kites 

the air is cooler with sun's fading light  

autumn arrives, muted colors & dreads -

the harvest of pumpkins & plums is spread

on table with berrries & gourds weaved tight

on my canvas of hemp & cotton white

paint me a sky of apple green and red 

i watch the rain hammer the browning beds

as maple leaves start to yellow in sight 

dead flower heads begin to roll, a blight

autumn arrives, muted colors & dreads -

painting a sky of apple green & red

moody as trees, lush as pears with first bite-                                 

autumn arrives, muted colors & dreads 

Crab Apple Tree

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Poetry Form:  Villonnet. A Villonnet is a hybrid of the Villanelle and the Sonnet. It has the Iambic Pentameter of both, but holds the four-stanza/line structure of the sonnet, while utilizing the two-line rhyme nature of the villanelle. The final stanza replaces the sonnet couplet with a typical villanelle tercet.    Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

flamenca in the plaza

when midnight strikes, let's meet-

bright moon is white knight by

pomegranate tree 

i'll bring my castanets,

clicking lights, red tight skirt

swishing & stomping feet

on fishbones cobbled steps-

you are red as wine

toasting the good harvest

with big bottles of cheers 

the plaza is buzzing

hands clapping fast, faster

we are swept along- 

tales of love & lament

we are sands in lost land

Pomogranate Tree, Spain

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Flamenca, Spanish verse form.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit and comments.   Form:  The elements of the Flamenca are:

1. stanzaic, can be written in any number of quintains.
2. syllabic, 6-6-5-6-6 syllables per line to imitate the rapid click of the heels of a dancer.
3. L2 and L5 assonate. (same vowel sounds)

   
   

june diary: strawberry moon

this kiss, yours -  is an unbridled sonnet

tart as wild juniper berries in gin

brimming with seduction & sloppy grin

unpredictable as crashing rocket 

who would have guessed, we like chaos & black 

not sweet strawberries, but peppery to  

roll our tongues in shock, like a strong brew-

we adore brightness & shadows, a stack

of poems.  if we cared what they say we are-

not compatible, crazy kids with wheels-

we would not be here, love drunk, twined in teal

in a heartbeat, your eyes are silver stars 

you gift me a lush garden of verses: 

unrhymed poetry, dance beats, blue metric,

guitar riffs, rocking my world electric-

there's no time to dally in rehearsals

               

your lyrics unravel me, spilling ink

moon tides, my lungs on fire, i flower pink

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- MTB with John Donne and his Heroic Sonnet hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  

I reworked some of the lines I wrote here and made this a longer poem, following the sonnet model as requested by Bjorn.  Thanks for your comments.

Emerald eyes of spring

 

Call me, I have emerald eyes

Watching the pink lilacs blooming

Under the glossy silver sky

Green buds are preening & swooning

Red flowerettes bloom - a marvel

Call me, I have emerald eyes

Brimming with spring steps so cheerful

Without wiles, witchweeds or guises

I scatter seeds, saplings arise

Under the bright sun's long hours

Call me, I have emerald eyes

Tying colorful wildflowers

Gathering pinecones, I pen words

Under maple tree, sweet as pie

This is where I'll be - heeding birds

Calling me with emerald eyes

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Poetry Form is Quatern.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   

summer & winter

I.

 

here is an assortment of shells

pink, white, coral, and bones

it holds

sunlit days, rippled tides of spells:

shark's eye, cones, conch, small stones -

king's gold

on a clear fish bowl filled with sands - 

amber smooth as chai tea 

i sigh

for beaches & summer's long hands

when the sky is so blue

i fly

II.

we watch snowflakes spill - glass flowers

on barren fields & woods

calling

we gather light from short hours -

wicks, lamps & yellowed goods

falling

finally the moon is ours-

darkness is a cocoon

wrapping

midnight sky with mulberry stars-

silvering trees, we swoon  

clapping

The above is the example in the dVerse Poets Pub post.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Memento.   Join us when the pub doors open to discuss the poetry form, Memento.  There is also an option to write a free style poetry with a theme about memento, using symbolism as a poetic device.  

the bassist

 

unfinished music sheets & riffs

untied laces on messy floor 

unhurried words, disconnected  

unguarded, you could have fooled me

music is your pill, oxygen 

muffling all the suttered sadness

muscles uncoil, your fingers fly

mutiny of blues & fire storm

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Using the head rhymes in the Traditional Mongolian Meter.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm

The gift came with instructions

 

She gave us a gift in box: packets of seeds

Bearing various shapes - bird's feet, fish's eyes, clouds, bones

Holding the promise of fruits from caring deeds

We took the storms, thoughtless insults and sharp stones

That came our way. Instead we made maps, beads

of peace, stories from forests, lakes and pine cones-

Our one voice echoed with other voices

Our two hands multiplied with calm choices 

What we could not imagine, happens:   kindness

Rooting, growing, removing our blindness

Spreading from home to home, this gift that binds us

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Eleventh Power (and More) - The poetry form that I have selected has the following elements:

1. stanzaic, written in any number of 11 line stanzas.
2. syllabic, 11 syllables each.
3. rhymed, rhyme scheme: abababccddd or ababababccc.

There is also an option of a List Poem in an 11 line stanza.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visits and comments.

spring morning appointment

 

let's meet under the maple tree

the sky is periwinkle blue

the garden is rain-sprinkled, new,

greening & lush, i will bring tea

& you will bring your silence, soft

as dawn, nesting of spry pines, washed

warm amber, soothing our knees

will we mellow & flow into  

radiant spring morning?  i hope so 

there are birdsongs & rowdy bees

& wild dandelions to blow

& red daisies to string & stow

& blooming pink lilacs to see

& wind to chase.  this is no ploy

our pockets will be full of joy!

let's meet under the maple tree

greening & lush, i will bring tea

warm amber, soothing our knees

there are birdsongs & rowdy bees

& blooming pink lilacs to see

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Constanza Form,  hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm.  Thanks for the visit and comments.

celebrating trees

smell of pine trees, under half-moon

wafts citrus, musky as burnt wood, 

we inhale deeply fragrant breeze

recalling season of spring - soon                                         

soft are needles veiled in deep freeze

under half-moon, smell of pine trees

dark sap, scooped earth, trickling slowly

of zest, upon pine cones wholly 

fresh.  we make ardent wish:  peace, berth

under maple trees - brown, closely

tuffed by light, we witness green birth-

trickling slowly-  dark sap, scooped earth 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form is Sparrowlet.  

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

dreaming of flowers in winter

 

there is dull blush 

in the morning breaths, when

gloomy clouds obscure the sparkly clear blue

in the sky, the birdsongs on sugar maple trees,

hide the posy hues i draw on the page

but i know, listen - hush -

to the slow murmuring breeze, shadows spin,

& fold away when dawn breaks through

snow-capped fields, bony twigs tease

my thoughts to pools of light, a magical stage

i fall myself into, lush

pines of silence, unwrapped in copper tin

box, i taste spring in my tea cup, i chew

brandy-spiced pears, lemon tarts & buttered peas-

i catch sunflowers & tie my verses with sage

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics, Exploring the Realm of French Literature - Hosted by Sanaa Rizvi.   Poetry form:   Rimas Dissolutas.

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.