There is vulnerability
in unconditional love.
Sensual giving,
baring our souls.
We commune
in tonight’s passion
and tomorrow’s mundane.
We are,
as love is.
Anmol (HA) is guest hosting at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. He asks us to explore desire and sexuality in poetry – and to write about desire and identity. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time…come join us!
Insomnia,
thou art my bedfellow.
You joust to slay my sleep,
pummel me with dire near-dozing dreams.
I succumb,
not to rest, but to rise instead.
Darkness turns light,
switch slapped by frustrated hand.
Insomnia,
thou art the victor
and I,
your bleary-eyed spoils.
I’m hosting Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. The prompt word is “spoil” – or any form of the word. Quadrille: a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time – come join us! Image from Pixabay.com
Words matter,
sly winks silence not.
Words hurled into sea of humanity
ripple inhumanity.
Build waves tumultuously
till tsunami destroys.
Words matter,
crowds riled to group-think.
Vitriolic spittled slogans,
us-them denigration.
Barbed words
create the wire.
This era,
tomorrow’s ancient script.
Our ever-living shame.
De hosts Monday’s Quadrille at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today’s prompt word is “wink.” A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Dancer by trade,
she entered and exited on cue
shuffled feelings and muffled flaps,
anger building as he controlled every move.
Until she left.
Shuffled off to Buffalo,
her patience finally tapped out.
Inside, she looks out.
Seasons change
confined within her pane.
Stripped by cruel winds,
branches clatter
nodes exposed.
Charles River, ribbon slight,
below low slung sky,
scene through barren trees.
Relieved, she slowly smiles,
espies her Charles again.
Silent vow worms her mind.
Before spring reblooms in pane
I shall join you, sweet Charles,
an afterworld away.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, on Open Link Night.
Photo from Pixabay.com
Once upon a glimmer,
hope lived.
Moonbeam wisps
and dandelion puffs.
Dew drops on lily pads
and snowflake glisten
on frosted pane.
We watched.
We loved.
We waited.
Hope glimmered
in our evening prayers.
I’m hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. The prompt is to begin a poem with Once upon a ????? Writers may add any word except “time.” So I’ve chosen Once upon a glimmer. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Demolition man.
His explosions
too often
too close to home.
Photo from Pixabay.com
He spun a sugar-coated tale.
Bright lights and sequins,
adoring crowds.
Come join me and be a star!
So I went.
Believed that sweet talking ringleader . . .
and his beguiling eyes.
Spot lights fell on sawdust stages
again and again in tawdry towns.
Love is blind – too late I saw.
Following him, I lost my way.
He prances about, cajoles the crowd.
I traipse ’round makeshift bleachers
sans sequins, sans fame.
Get your cotton candy here!
I am the busker
for his spun-sugar tale.
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today Sarah hosts and wants us to go to the circus! Pub opens at 3:00 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Magician, sleight of hand his trade.
Quick undetected moves.
Misdirection while abracadabrahing.
No white rabbits.
No multicolored scarves
tucked up his sleeves.
Ladies’ man supreme,
handsome and mysterious.
Meandering lover, he savors the travel,
one step ahead of wanted posters.
Disappearing wives his specialty.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where it’s Quadrille Monday! De hosts and asks us to include the word “quick” within our quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title). Photo from pixabay.com
She sits slumped,
rot gut whiskey bottle
clutched in hands.
Stitch in side, she aches.
Time blurrs
lost in last nine shots.
Pennies by her feet
tossed by do-good passerby
don’t jar her mind.
Can’t think straight or at all.
Too far gone to live
not quite enough to die.
Written for Tuesday’s Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Jilly is hosting and asks us to take one or two well known adages and significantly change them! Can you find the two I’ve used?
Photo from Pixabay.com Answer Key: Stanza 1 from “A stitch in time saves nine.” and Stanza 2 is from “A penny for your thoughts. ” Explaining further, in case you’re not familiar with having a stitch (pain) in your side: often happens to people when they’re running … or can be a sign of other medical problems too.
lillian the home poet 