Through the grey windows

Run me quick
along songs of swallows
yellow is a drumbeat 

in twilight hours, tying
my feet in balloons
gliding over lakes

with teardrops blued-
spoon, toss me
to a salad of green & grains-

i'm an algorithm
scarfing out, 
pitchforking remnants of a march-

paper me (less)
humor me (more)
humanity, i don't hate you

Colossal:  Maud Vantours

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Join us for OpenLinkNight starting at 3pm EST.   Putting a little verbication in my verses, which was Lillian's prompt last Tuesday.     


Check out the poetry reading of E.E. Cummings, Humanity i love you by A. Palmer.   

Waiting

I stand on the train platform.  The screen monitor shows 3 minutes before the train arrives.   The scarf around my neck starts to itch and heat builds up under my winter jacket.  I look at the other commuters busy with their phones or music.   The only noise is from a group of 4 women nearby, chattering animatedly and laughing.   I hope they are going to the same meeting place in Queen's Park, Toronto City for the Women's March. Anticipation builds up as more and more people join in the waiting.   Here comes the flashing lights and grinding sounds of the train rolling close.  Here comes the roaring voices of women, shoulder to shoulder. I am lifted, feather light.   Folding into the sea of pink and colorful flags drawn with hearts of love.  

on fog-lit morning

i inhale blue calm of trees

and fire of drumbeats

Credit:   Michael Evans

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday.  The theme is waiting and we have a special guest blogger from Australia.   Please join us when the pub opens at  3pm EST. Thanks for your visit.   

Note:   Joined the Women's March in Toronto on Jan. 21, 2017.   We were 60,000 strong, walking peacefully for equality, respect, denouncing hate and discrimination and advocating love and kindness.

Hail to the chef!

You clang the wooden cutting board
On table and gather your knives
Your hands are strings on cups of gouds
Chopping each lonely leaf to hives

Your fingers are lit with spices
Yellow ginger, red paprika
Pepper, cumin- all enticing
Minting soup with green carica

Your head moves to bubbles of bones
Humming as fruits sit, golden soft
Tying knot of herbs, baking scones.
We wait, munching on our toast!



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Artisan poetics with Kim Russell as our host ~  We are inspired to write in the style of Seamus Heaney ~

Our poetry pub opens at 3pm EST.  Join us for a poetry challenge.

starry wants

you're the fish
and I'm the clumsy fishermoon

you're daisy, yellowing
and I'm the witless greenskeeper  

I'm only pink-
toasted
when my fingers are blue-
inked

I'm filled with sea-
weeds
wants 
wanting

running in circles 
waiting for your whispered verses

in my ear




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub- Quadrille, Hosted by De Jackson.   The quadrille is a 44 word count post with the word WHISPER.  Join the fun when the pub opens at 3:00 pm EST.

(un)finished poem

all night
i polish my skin
magnifiying every pore
(un)til copper gold
vibrant & electric
shiny as preening male crow
grunting & screeching with power

you stand quietly
watching all my efforts
then your voice
(un)slicing the shadows
sparks  
with a fiery passion
each verse, 
your nakedness 
your shore of thoughts
your song of swallows 

I listen,
(un)catching 
each small stone 
each
stress imprint
(un)folding 
welling-
the air hisses with teeth
ripping out
all the plastic bubble
& shallow stars from my eyes

I am ....




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight ~  The virtual pub opens at 3 pm EST ~Thank you for joining us ~

Two bridges

this bridge is a stone cast
pebbling the river below to motion
a cornerstone
with spine of wood and metal 
as sands ripple with small fish
blue 
flower blossoms-
field of wheat catches the breeze-
our footsteps mellow from running   
to peering between the rails   


~0~0~


this bridge is a poem
stringing letters without commas
tying words in accordion lyrics
knitting pages without numbers
until ink is carved on pub walls
and bed sheets of snow
for the briefest of moments:
we are butterflies, 
waxing heartbeats
from the same cocoon




Posted for the D'verse Poets Pub - Bridge hosted by Lillian ~

Thanks for joining our prompts.  Don't forget that this Thursday is OpenLinkNight. 

Giant hands, little feet

The shape was ominously grim.  Black smoke with a fireball so huge.   Giant hands in red and orange colors against the darkest night.  A monster to my 5 year old mind.   I was awaken abruptly and carried to the window.  On the second floor, I can see the growing smoke against the sky.  The commotion, screams and siren lights were jumbled, in one distressing picture. All our things were packed hurriedly, while we wait for the blazing fires in the nearby houses to die down.  It would be some time before I could sleep at night by myself.

tattered leaves on grass

i ink colors on grey clouds

& ashes of yesterdays

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday and the theme is Childhood Experiences. Thanks to Jane (Lady Nyo) for helping us with the prompt and reading!

A gift: A recording of heartbeats

The nights tear me blue
You listen with grateful tears
And gift me with this:  heartbeats
His.  My beloved.
Sunshine spills, tangerine sweet
Melting winter chill, bleak grey


Drum beats - strong, steady.  
I hear his voice, hued with youth,
mischief, and belly laughter-
Four years of silence.
You're not a stranger but kin
Not by blood, but hearts spared, shared-







Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetry form is Choka hosted by Gayle Walters Rose.  I used the structure of the unit onji (19 syllables):  (5 - 7 - 7) (5 - 7 - 7) per stanza.  Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.

I was reading some wonderfully nice stories about heart (organ) donations.  In particular, I was struck with the story of a woman meeting an older man with her young son's heart.   I am a registered organ and tissue donor in Ontario.   If you are not yet registered, consider being a organ donor and make a difference in someone's else life.

Beginnings

When I am murky with words
lost in glade of darkness

Remind me to lean to skylight
where a path  
unfurls of wheat and yellow corn   

When I am caked with dust
drowning in my own quicksand

Remind me to untie my shoes
I have wings
to slice the moon to crescent bows

When I am slipping with despair
walking with leaden knees

Remind me to unmoor my boat
I have hands 
to parcel a sea of beginnings

Jim and Lynn Lemyre - New Beginning

"We invite the viewer to engage with the imagery to discover their own interpretation and to share it with us.  It is art as dialogue rather than monologue, a fabric of conversation, in which we invite the viewer to participate. "      lemyreart.com

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Beginnings hosted by Mish ~  I selected this particular work by the artist ~ Do check out the other artists with the same theme, New Beginnings when the pub opens at 3pm EST ~  

Spell

Distance is you
fevered under the linen of snow

Breathing blue, weighed
by stiff white crystals

Hemmed by dark
feathers & stones

Under the dead 
rib, I whisper urgently 

to your curled ear:
Never forget-

Be a savage fern!
Be the wild blooming sage!

Grace@EverydayAmazing

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille, is a 44 word post with the word CURL, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.   First prompt for the year 2017!     Happy new day!!!