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.