Postscript to our afternoon

the cooked peanuts with garlic crunches on your palm
while i spoon slowly the melting ice cream on my cup

silence flows and ebbs to the beat of ticking 
clock & waiter's eager scrubbing of wine glasses

outside the cafe, cars and the pedestrians tangle in
mess of miscues & missteps

the afternoon sun is mellow yellow, sinking 
behind the fan of leaves, crisp as neat bow tie

i flip away my lethargic mop of hair
and put my spoon down, drawing on long 

deep breath, knowing what to say
now, right now

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by guest bartender Sarah Russell.  Theme of Poetics is Finding Emotions and Concepts in Things.  Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Muted colors

the undertow of the water
heaves, curling my chest in brine

nerves of pain slices through me
as if escaping a firestorm

outside, the sun stumbles behind
muted clouds, scribbling jagged lines

my forehead
burning in sweat

a soliloquoy of uncertainty disturbs 
thin air




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, a post of 44 words.  The selected word is Burn.  Thanks for hosting Victoria Slotto.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

The awakening

a voice inside your head
                   
                  be still 

you dab
     clouds of cotton on your       spindled finger
you sleep
     on nest of tangled ferns        & castle of sorrows
you dream
     of that magical kiss under     ocean of stars

i tell you the voice inside my head

rest if you must, if you are tired

                   but wake up

remove the flax & flex
   your wobbling legs, stand-

be the 
            swallow, 
that sways to the flutes of the wind          & wings away-
be the 
            moon, offering

its whole silver light,
even under claws of stormy sky-

and be that 
                   woman
that dances with windy tresses                 & raises a glass

of margarita and says,
Listen! 

I have one heck of a story to tell!   

Sleeping Beauty's Dream by CATRIN WELZ-STEIN

       

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  The pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Come and link up and read our poems.   I have written to last week's prompt by Lillian:  Inspired by Art. 

Late January spell

Half moon, cradle of shadows and light
Needle our eyes to star-burst night
Thump our chests, mired in hemlock & brine
Half moon, cradle of shadows and light
Draw amber and seeds on our palms
We long for sunshine and rain clouds 



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Earth, walk with me

To where  
my beloved home waits
crisp yellow by red sun 
and serenaded by ancient trees 
here, the smell of musk is spice
the heat is soup with bread
the fragrance of green 
are soft cotton sheets at night
and my eyes are opening at the 
first brush of light
and flight of small wings

Earth, remind me
of dawn's pink sparkle
dispelling fingers of darkest night
of fresh scent of rain
on faces of wild berries 
I want to shrink, sink 
into your chest of silence
turn me into a stone or grain
it matters not
beside the rolling river,
I am pure 
beating heart-


The above poem was inspired by this Pablo Neruda's poem illustrated below:

OH EARTH, WAIT FOR ME

Turn me oh sun
towards my native destiny,
rain from the ancient forest,
return to me the fragrance and the swords
that fall from the sky,
the solitary peace of field and rock,
the moisture at the margins of the river,
the scent of the larch,
the wind, alive like a heart
beating among the remote flock
of the great araucaria.

Earth, return to me your pure gifts
the towers of silence that rose
from the solemnity of their roots:
I want to return to being what I have not been,
learn to return from such depths
that amongst all the things of nature
I could live or not live: no matter
to be one more stone, the dark stone,
the pure stone that is carried by the river.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Guest host is Jill Lyman.  The prompt is Response Poetry where the challenge is to write a poem that is a direct reply to another poem.  We can test  our poetic limits by mirroring the form of the original poem.  You may also choose to take the challenge to another level by writing two poems in which you respond to an original poem of your own. Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Even a ripple makes a difference

Knead my anger to bread
      of common wheat  
Salt my wounds 
      red with fresh thyme
         
Against killing fields of innocents' blood
Against greed of tyrants & power mad leaders

Puncture through my chest 
      songs of hurts & injustices
Petrol my voice  
      to ripple through dark alleys 

Let me wear your
      grease of sinful shame
      graveyard of sadness

Keel me with rain-
drops 
of compassion
clouds of forgiveness 

Born in me,
person, 
not a beast nor coward

Let them not make me a stone 
and let them not spill me.

Otherwise kill me



“Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.”
⁃ Louis MacNeice
from, ‘Prayer before Birth’


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Bold Tributes hosted by Amaya  Engleking.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Here is the prompt:   We’ll pay tribute to a non-violence or social justice poem by embedding a powerful quote into our own poems, in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Please come join us as there are several example quotes to use, from Thomas Hardy to Margaret Walker, or you can find your own quote inspiring peace.

Right under our feet

young man boards a full train
   holding a small pot of green, sapling-


sparking color in room of grey scarves,
   black coats and winter boots


i daydream of sleeping seeds
   & blankets of sunshine & cups of tea


a white-haired couple stands near me,
    talking animatedly, as if they are


in their own garden, reading the
    same book & she has stars


in her eyes as he leans in to
    kiss, lover in the intimate space--


their twining hands remind me 
   that spring does not vanish at winter's breath


but is blossoming
   everywhere-

By Sharon Knight

Credit:  SunEarthSky

Posted for dVerse Open LinkNight - Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visit.  

Winter Moon

The wind chill is thick ice on my legs and cheeks.  I walk quickly inside the house, warm with fleece covers.   The snow is a blanket over the bare landscape, with the sun barely making an appearance.   With the polar vortex temperatures, the only footprints on the snow were those of the black squirrels.   

Some nights, the moon hides behind the thick clouds.   As if swallowed by giant black waves, rocking the night sky.  The stark simplicity of the starless night is a beauty in its purest form.   In the darkness, I muse about many things, including my plans for the coming days.   I see that I have a lot of things to do yet, with time ticking very fast.  Here are my gloves, spade and seeds.   I tend to my inner garden.   

wild field is notebook
blank of green, red and sunshine-
birds flutter- sketch of silver- 



Posted for dVErse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Victoria Slotto.   Last week, we had temperatures going as low as -21 to -30 with the wind chill.  Here is short write up about the haibun prompt:

Here is a short quote about Fuyu No Tsuki from a Japanese perspective: Fuyu No Tsuki has a pale tint that indicates a kind of coldness deep within—solemn and clear, a frame of mind.

Today, I would like to see a brief non-fiction account of your experience (not more than three tight paragraphs) related to Fuyu No Tsuki, the winter moon, followed by a Haiku that observes the standards of the form by including reference to a season.

Beginnings

amethyst & ice-crystals
hug my neck, as needles 

of pain stakes my chest,
yesterday's grey- 

lone blackbird perches on
bare twig  

leaps from the darkness &
flies, flashing silver-

my eyes follow,
an apprentice-

then search underneath
frosty dust

my beat-
heat-

beating stone

Grace@EverydayAmazing

Posted for dVerse Poets - Quadrille - 44 word post with the word - LEAP.  Join us when the pub doors open once more at 3pm EST.    Happy New Year!  

Winter Solstice

Night, a lightning.   Shovel hitting the frosty
ground. Splintering crystals into thousand mirrors.  

My eyes squint,
heavy laced with ice

searching for color  

above the walkway

laden of diamond drops-

No, No!
I am a prey 
caught in frozen web-

        

The moon crackles.  Crescent above skeletal   
trees.   Scattering faint its nebulous light.  

My hands are so cold   

motionless, dead leaves

Push, push

back the black tides

engulfing, surging

my lungs  

the guilty weight is an illusion

Breathe, breathe

The sun crows. Wearing pink & peach shades.
My eyes mist that I made it through long long night.

~0~0~0~0~  ~0~0~0~0~

And finally, our dVerse Anthology is available !   Enjoy the journey of more than 100 poets at Amazon, North America or Amazon, Europe.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.   We are going for a break at the poetry pub for 2 weeks.   

Wishing you all Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays !!!!  ~0~0~0~0~