Persistance

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: For the love of puzzles . . .
Wow, this was some challenge, Lillian!

Persistance

proving the existence of
a dark, hidden planet is
like trying to puzzle the soft
essence of your heart
moving aside the hard parts formed
over years of heartache and climbing
obstacles you have planted to dash all
new pathfinders

but I will carry on, from
dawn to end of day
searching for a crack, some sign of
yielding to the tender
impulses hidden behind an alkali-
like reaction that keeps you safe
from the acidic touches you have known
until my heart can teach yours its gentle creed

— pale moon,
my friend

https://dversepoets.com/2021/08/24/poetics-for-the-love-of-puzzles/

Heart of the Matter

d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #134: We {heart} poems

Heart of the Matter

This poem would like to get right
To the heart of the matter
Dispense with heart-shaped boxes
And frilly construction paper hearts
No plucking heartstrings or silly
“I heart you” stickers. This poem wears
its heart on its sleeve and shouts,
“I love you!”


https://dversepoets.com/2021/08/23/quadrille-134-we-heart-poems/

In the Ladies Parlor

In the Ladies Parlor

We come with cups filled
with our true selves, slowly
pouring out bits for others
to gather up and marvel
at their beauty.
Sometimes laughter splashes out,
sometimes tears.
Sometimes our fears or frustrations
slip over the brim to be picked
up and soothed by sages and philosophers
who understand. And when we leave that
Ladies Parlor we find our cups have
been refilled with small treasures
from the cups of others.

— Candace Kubinec


Thank you to the Ladies Tea and Poetry Society
for a wonderful afternoon of fellowship

Dee

Slow Time

Slow Time

It is the slow time
The time between day
and night

The time when only cardinals
are searching for seeds
under the feeder

The time when even the trees seem
to settle and the breeze softens
The time when faint rosy smears

left by the sun remain in the sky
It is the slow time
when two hearts turn away from

the busy world
to find each other

Mending Threads

Meet the bar with Chant poetry

Posted by Björn Rudberg (brudberg) in 10 year celebration, FormForAll, Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft


Mending Threads

A mending thread runs from my heart to reach
A mending thread dangling from yours
A mending thread to run from us across the street
A mending thread that will stretch from person to person
A mending thread of love and peace encircling the world
A mending thread to bind our wounds and heal our aching souls
A mending thread we can weave into a giant dream catcher
A mending thread that will hold our gravest nightmares
A mending thread to save me from the loneliness of missing you

https://dversepoets.com/2021/07/15/meet-the-bar-with-chant-poetry/

Of Peace and Drama

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Garden(ing)
https://dversepoets.com/2021/07/13/poetics-gardening/

Of Peace and Drama

she takes her camera to the bit of land that
she works
looking for bees and butterflies hoping
to find
a Monarch flitting among the milkweed she has planted
a place
where they can lay their eggs, where caterpillars munch the leaves
where peace
is sometimes an illusion, as insects and birds play out the drama of who
exists

waltmarie#poeticforms

Waltmarie Poetic Form-
10 line poem, any subject, even numbered lines are 2 syllables and form their own poem when read separately. Odd lines are longer with no specific syllable count.

summer troiku

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai #1845 Troiku Challenge: Summertime


http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2021/06/carpe-diem-haiku-kai-1845-troiku.html

at the seashore
wind of summer through my hair
the shortest night

© Chèvrefeuille

at the seashore
small boy with his orange bucket
builds a new world

wind of summer through my hair
tells tales of the ancients
in a secret language

the shortest night
leaves lovers and dreamers
longing for darkness

Beggars Without Bowls

d’Verse Poets Pub – MTB: To turn again, about turn again.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/06/03/mtb-to-turn-again-about-turn-again/

Beggars Without Bowls

I offer seeds and nuts to the beggars
and they come, big and small, begging,


without bowls, for alms, for scraps that beg
not to be wasted. And I, like those beggars,


hope for a quick reward, a glimpse, for begging
them with seeds and nuts to appear – those feathered beggars


scavenging for leftovers beneath the feeder, beggars
without bowls in bird-like disguise