A place for poems and pics
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille # 137: Throwing Poem Stones
Duck! De Jackson has us throwing stones at each other.
The Rescue
I rescued a katydid from the pool this morning,
laying it gently on the deck, hoping it will dry
out, crawl away. Rain is in the forecast,
so I move it to a stone under a broad leaf.
I hope it’s a lucky stone.
Quadrille # 137: Throwing Poem Stones
d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics – Dungeons and Derivatives
Quite a challenge today! Choose a line from one of Sanaa’a poems and write your own poem using derivatives of its words.
Here is my attempt using the following line:
5 “The rustling of leaves; I have stood many a time at the doorway of dreaming.” – Buck Moon ~ Part two: Seeing things.
The Coming Change
Flower petals hang limp and faded
their leaves spotted with disease
The sun’s warmth is abandoning us –
tilting away to warm the faces of others
leaving no heat to see us through the night
Even the geese mock us, honking as
they fly across the sky in formation
Gentle breezes have turned a cold shoulder and
Rusted leaves stand in the doorway of my dreams
—
Poetics – Dungeons and Derivatives
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #135: Shake that Poem Groove Thang
Forever Grooving
The needle dropped into the
groove of the old 45-
scratchy sounds of rock’n roll
filled the room. Her hips
and heart began to sway,
images of a high school gym
filled with teenagers floated
behind her closed eyes, and
she felt groovy again.
Quadrille #135: Shake that Poem Groove Thang
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
Poetics: For the love of puzzles . . .
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/
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
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
Meet the bar with Chant poetry
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 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.
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille 131 – with Brian Miller
the word today is “Juke”
Time Traveler
she has her own Jukebox
an antique with colorful neon lights
she has filled with her favorite 45s
oldies that take her back to dances in the gym
and a boy with slicked back hair
she pushes B5 and dances alone
with her memories
Quadrille 131 – with Brian Miller
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
