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The next tree

Within the librarythe present and the pastpredicts the future,prose and poetry alikeis what takes us to the moon,destroys, bring warsand ecocide. Days to come will mirror,not repeatbecause the human mindwith all its flawsremains the same. We have not changedinsidewe still arethe little flock of mindscrossing the savannahsearching for a killto feed a family of friends. The poet knows,is part of…

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a cup of coffee and some questions - dialogue poetry for dVerse

“There is a dress-code here” he says,looking at my designer-jeans,and handmade Italian shoes I look at his polyester suit,feeling sweat trickling down my back.I smile and realize – that I yawn. “I understand” – smiling (did I brush my teeth?)— a pungent smell of garlic “Do you care for a cup of coffee?” “Yes. please” – I feel a little betterthe warm cup in my hand. “And imagine that we’ve…

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Moonvoice

In moonsilver spilled painting pathsbetween the stately headstones lostIn my mind repeating voices, wrath,mistakes made, the ”why” that’s tossed the dagger-words embeds themselvesmy mumbling shield: “I do not know”“I didn’t think, I didn’t care, I shelvedmy brain, to mend I don’t see how” From high above a voice, the moon:“Be still and breathe, this night will tell”I’m frozen, calm, a solemn…

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Enchantress

undulating curvesenchantress youunnerve me perfumedI’m sacrificedleftin electric attarwrung from cinnamonand midnight rose in your gazethe mysteryof a sickle moonat three am your voicestringent, strongunravels sleepand bind merestlesstetheredand enslaved. EnchantressLuis Ricardo Falero De hosts the Quadrille at dVerse today with the word enchant to incorporate in 44 words of poetry. April…

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Buds on guard

Yes, of course it hurts when buds are breaking.Why else would the springtime falter?Karin Boye The open sky as blueas eyes of youthe tousling wind, its sunlit kissis bliss for nowbut boughs are still barewith buds on guardthey wait and waitfor shrouds of frostto fall again,again with pewter cloudsagain with drizzle daysagain with teeth of frostin this, in thisthe cruellest monthexpect it all,a…

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No castles of sand

“It’s not a lie”“it’s not a lie”“it’s not a lie” it’s many lies,based on lies,based on more liesbased on a pebble of trutha grain of sandbeached in the wavesof hyperbolic wrath the grain is a gemto be foundto be wrappedand layered in blankets of truthsto build something betterthan castles of sand. Sand Castles in Your Mind Last ForeverDavid Michael Hinnebusch Today Melissa hosts dVerse with a…

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Snowless spring

This last day of March I reflect on how far spring has progressed this year. Yesterday we went for a walk in the local forest. Though the ground is mostly brown with last year’s decaying leaves the ground is also speckled blue with hepatica in full bloom. I remember the year when snow still covered the ground until April arrived. From Nebulous white to lugubrious umbra my world transitioned, if…

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From the custodian’s cabin.

Sitting by the window of my hut looking at the snow I reflect on Robert Frost’s poem: The road not taken, and wonder how we managed to diverge from the highway leading humanity into the abyss. We had the wars of the 2030s but even when we feared the madmen preparing to send us into nuclear Armageddon, or a climate crisis making temperatures soar, sea-levels rising and new epidemics spreading…

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You call me love

With icicle hands I clutchyou heartand with venom in my words,I take control;distort your gaze to watch for specksdeform your thoughts away from planksand bend your sense of reasoninto treasonrage against the lightfight, fight, defeatI paint them blackI paint you redand underneath your skin, an itcha rash I rest.I’m hatebut you call me love. They PareFrancisco Goya Today we personify abstract…

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Sugarcoating

Engraved,in mindthe dire dreamsof dirge and dread, awakeat three AMslick with sweatwith bedsheets coiledaround my legs I realize, alas,that nightmaresreally sugarcoat realitywere crooning dronesawaitto crack my ribcageand rip my heart away. Nighmares are just sugarcoated version of reality – AI image by Chat-GPT Kim hosts dVerse Quadrille were the word today is engrave. March, 24 2025

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Equinox, if only

Returning daylight, nowtoday at vernal equinoxa day victoriousagainst the blindness of the night. Imagine if, also rays of truthcould penetrate the twilightspread by hate. If spring could make it clear how muchwe waste to be amused (or horrified). What matters light for yet a hospital aflame?What matters light behind a cloud of drones?What matters light for starving children? Still reflect…

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The shadow of feathers

Your shadow is more the apparition of a dreamneatly bled from lost syllablesthan the feathers left behind from a hawk’s dinneroutside the station of a metro. Close-up photograph of swan feathers letting sunlight through by Basile Morin, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons Today Sanaa invites is to play a game of poetry monopoly today at dVerse and leaves us with several choices. My choice was…

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Sail away

Many years ago we decided to follow the same path in the direction laid out by providence. We travel without a map and compass so at every crossroad we wait for a sign before deciding on a new course, but we always go on and will never return.  Sometimes we take a detour, sometimes a shortcut, but we are always together, enjoying our journey, over meadows and through forests.  For every camp…

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Cruelty is strength

When did morals change to this?enjoyment in the bully’s blissto feel compassion is for foolsWhen being strong is being cruel Reward the rapist with your kissenjoy their torture and their dissyour pleasure is the ruler’s toolWhen being strong is being cruel Disgrace the few, who dare opposeand cheer the flock. the sheep, the cowswe lead to slaughter as we droolWhen being strong is being…

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Library - time

The windows of the librarycan only be reachedby climbing a ladderhidden under lock and key;so as the books unopenedthe worlds (words)within will only knowabout each otherthrough a visitor bringingthe evening papers. Once I asked the librarianfor the time;he just lookedat me and shared his viewthat to know the time,I had to leavecause withinthe time will never changeunless definedin syllables…

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High Noon

Sharpshooter Shawnentered at noonsurrounded by silenceadvanced to the barhe slapped his handon the counterfor a shot-glass of rye. While tipping his ten gallonhe pointed at May-Louwho sashayed with a smileinto his armsreleasing the strain. AI -drawing Today De hosts the Quadrille at dVerse and the word we should include in the 44 word poem is hoot. March 10, 2025

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Metamorphed

Poem,I, gently growskey-stroke by key-stroketransformed from letters,wordsto sentences to senseno longer inked on papera codeis still a storyonly whenI’m read by youand in your mindyou fill the voidswith colors, scents. Do you hear my teal caesurasor words that grow to waves? I bring you on a sea-side walka shore unknown to meand if you close your eyesyou will hear my brined unknown, This…