Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

The Old Cat

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Make some room
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The Old Cat

The old cat has no room he calls his own,
he claims a spot til it’s no longer new.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

a sunny nook to warm his weary bones –
a padded window seat will surely do
The old cat has no room he calls his own.

Somedays a mournful yeowl he does intone,
when favorite blankets have been left askew.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

preferring quietness, to be alone
to ponder catching flies and mice and shrews.
The old cat has no room he calls his own –

he owns it all, each board and stepping stone.
His humble servants also know it’s true.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

a cardboard box that he can get into
and fall asleep, curled up and unbeknown.
The old cat has no room he calls his own,
he wanders round the space seeking a throne.

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, Poetic Bloomings, poetry

On the Death of the Family Historian

On the Death of the Family Historian

She was the keeper of the portal
The one who held the only key
And I believed she was immortal
Asked only what pertained to me
Relied on her for memories
And now I sit out side that door
A box of pictures from a drawer
People without names or places
No tiny scrap of family lore
They stare at me with somber faces

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Early in the Morning

dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics: On Wandering & Observing

Early in the Morning

 
She likes to go for a wander
in the morning – before the sun
heats up the day too much.
She strolls along the fitness trail –

passed easily by joggers and
serious walkers – most listening
to something other than the bird calls.
If she is lucky, she gets to watch a

Great Blue Heron fishing among the reeds
that line the shallow end of a small lake,
or laugh at the Little Blue Herons and Swallows
swoop and dive across the water – as if

playing a game of avian tag.
She often stops to sit quietly, whenever she
comes to a bench, looking for a pair of turtles
that sun themselves on an old log – grateful that

someone thought to provide a perfect
spot to just observe. And that is when she
begins feeling a little sorry for the runners
and fitness walkers who miss out on

the benefits of a good wander.

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Left Behind In May

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Limbo
Take a break or keep writing? I think I know the answer to that.

Left Behind in May

 

this poem has been left hanging –
languishing in limbo, cast aside,
out of date, too late for PAD
it is twiddling its thumbs
humming on an empty stage
with its meter running low
it’s a free verse for the taking
marking time on sore feet
until opportunity comes again
as leaves flutter down

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Of Souls Lost and Found

d’Verse Poets – Poetics: love the words
Laura has us channelling Dylan Thomas for this Pub challenge
BELL-VOICED, CRADLE-PETALS,  DARK-VOWELLED, DUST-TONGUED,
FIRE-DWARFED, GRAVE-GROPING,  HARE-HEELED,  HEAVEN-CIRCLING,
LARK-HIGH,  MAP-BACKED,  MOON-BLOWN,  MUFFLE-TOED,OWL-LIGHT, RINGED-SEA, SCYTHE-EYED, SHE-BIRD,
TEAR-CULLED, TIDE-LOOPED, WATER-SPOKEN, WHALE-WEED

For this Tuesday Poetics I’m asking you to write a poem using at least FOUR of the hyphenated compound words from the above list. Employ as little or as much of Thomas’ other methodologies too as but most of all, let’s love the words!

Of Souls Lost and Found

 

He walked softly, muffle-toed, through
the back of time. He walked until he
caught the ghost of her thoughts, heaven-circling,
whirling, swirling, out of reach. He walked straight
into yesterday where moon-blown memories
faded and dust-tongued poets stoked the fires of
remorse. He walked on, tide-looped and dizzy. And
when she found him, her bell-voiced lullaby and
tear-culled embrace brought him back to life.

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Rolled Over by the Good Times

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Mardi Gras Mambo


Rolled Over by the Good Times

 

This poem is flat on its back
Decked out in beads
Passed by and forgotten
Its party days are over
No words left to dance through
These vacant lines on blank paper
It will now march to the beat
Of a different meter – slow down
Become reflective, introspective
Make each syllable accountable
Tread hand-in-hand with its muse
On soft iambic feet

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Look Me in the Eyes

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Getting Personal

Look Me in the Eyes

Blue-green eyes stare back at me
This true reflection of myself
They know me – show me
For who I am
Mostly hopeful, happy, smiling
Little crinkles creep out from
The corners – laugh lines
(not crows feet)
Sometimes pensive, tense(ive)
Even sad – without a sparkle to share
They’ve got the blues
Squinty, maybe flinty, just a hint
Of yellow flecks flash disapproval,
Or confusion – a simple warning-
If you know to notice
Everything about this me is held
Within these blue-green eyes
Staring out at you

 

 

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Mirror On The Wall

Poetics – Through the looking glass – d’Verse Poets Pub
Bjorn has us stepping up to the mirror behind the bar

~
Mirror On The Wall

The face in the mirror
Tried to give me a flawed update
Fake news
False report
But I fact-checked those
Negative statements
Googled the hearsay
Then turned out the light