A place for poems and pics
long black arms
keeping rhythm
squeak,flop
squeak, flop
squeak, flop
trying vainly to
wipe away the
falling raindrops
on our windshield
as we count the miles to home
—-
IMAGE-ine: d’Verse – Meeting The Bar
Victoria has challenged us to write a poem in the style of imagism
the dirt is not just
“dirt”
it is alive, striving,
to stay neutral
it is the magic
elixir, fixer
of plant life
and so ours too
it is dark,
dank, a bank
of crumbly gold
we make withdrawals
without checking
the balance
it is clay
and sandy
loam
we walk all over it
just taking it
for granted
supplanted
if I stepped out
into space would
you hold tightly to the
tether thats holds me
to my earth,
my blue planet
would you reign me in
if I grew weary of
exploring, seeking
you – the air
I breath
the sun that
wakes me
the moon that
kisses me at night
if I stepped boldly
into worlds unknown
would you follow
trailing behind
guiding me home again
if I stepped lightly
into space
would you be
my tether
or start the
countdown
letting me
float
a-
way
—-
the challenge today in the Garden is to write an new poem based on one of
David Bowie’s songs – I keep humming the melancholy Space Oddity
I’ll be posting at dVerse Open Link too
the band played Moonlight Serenade
and they danced cheek to cheek
across the floor
they were young and in love
once more
the rhythm of the music
swept them back to
a first date when she was
shy and he a nervous
young soldier
——
Quadrille 1
Bjorn has challenged us to write a poem using ‘dance’ as a verb with an object and in just 44 words
vast spent stars of darkest ink
I think
are hiding in the deep of night
they might
have given up their glow
just flow
above us here below
keeping wishes we have made
upon them till they’d fade
I think they might just flow
—–
De is tending bar at the pub and has challenged us to try our hand at an Ovillejo
Check it out at d’Verse Poets
Photo : copyright Kanzensakura ( used with permission)
We have an old apple tree in our yard. There used to be three but over the years weather and disease got the best of the other two. Some years this old tree blooms abundantly and we have a harvest of misshapen but delicious apples at the end of summer. Birds nest in its branches and deer feast on the fallen fruit. Our granddaughter loves to play in the twisted branches. Every spring, as those lovely delicate white flowers begin to appear, we wonder if this will be the year we get a late freeze and will our old friend survive to delight us another season.
~
tender blossoms
with coats of winter white
spring snow
——
d’Verse Poets – Haibun Monday
Carpe Diem Haiku Kai -#895 Harusamu (cold spring)
I will not make a buck-
et list
all things I’d like to do
someday
then tick them off
one by one
until my bucket’s
empty and I am left
instead I will drop some-
thing into my bucket
each day
a kind deed, an adventure
with a four year-old,
a trip, a concert, an un-
expected email,
lunch with a friend
oh, I’m sure there will be big
surprises in my bucket too
and when I reach the end
of this life
I will spill out all the
wonders my bucket
holds, smiling in
gratitude for my full bucket
——
Just Jot It January – bucket list
—
Open Link Night at d’Vers Poets
There is nothing free about this verse.
It has me tethered to my pen with the timer set for enough minutes to make a cup of tea. Instead here I sit, not free but tethered.
I could be watching something mindless on tv but instead I am bound by ink to this page, not free.
These minutes could have been used for online shopping – it is almost Christmas, you know. But I am tethered to a notebook, not free at all.
A prisoner to words pouring onto this page once blank. The timer ticks out a rhythm and my pen follows, dragging me along, dragging my feet, my mind and on the other end of time my muse sits grinning. She has her feet up, doing her nails – oh, yes, I could have done my nails in these minutes!
This verse is not free. It has me tethered by sentences until – ding!
Today at Meet the Bar over at dVerse Poets Pub we were challenged to set a timer and do some free writing
we spread a blanket
on the ground
lay down to feel
the world go round
to watch the showy
stars of night
go dancing by-
squeal with delight
to toast celestial
bodies glow
with bread and cheese
and fine pinot
the clouds were heavy
in the sky
they cloaked the stars
from human eye
but we saw stars
in spite of this
we found them in
a moonless kiss
——
he couldn’t sleep
even though he
had been up all night –
it was his turn for
the night shift –
instead he stood
outside peering through
windows to watch
the smiles of excited
children opening gifts
his heart glowed when
he heard squeals of
joy as boys and girls
played with the toys they
most wished for but it was
time to go home
have some cookies
warm milk and put
his feet up – so with a soft
“ho, ho, ho”, he disappeared
into to the morning mist
