Quadrille Me a Dawn

We are immersed.
Polar night
darkness unseamed.

Evil dawns as sun does not.
Erodes hope,
essence of democracy.

Revels in abysmal decrees
hurled again and again,
narcissistic plague.

Scepter spews clues
to personality disorder,
alternative reality.

We know however,
the midnight sun
shall rise.


Quadrille (poem consisting of exactly 44 words – not including title) posted for dVerse, virtual pub for poets. Today Björn asks us to use the word “dawn.” Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us! Photo from 2015 Alaska cruise. 

Resistance

Hear the guttural call
a loon in the midst of porous fog.
Tall ships tack ‘gainst angry waves
sails unfurled defying blowhard wind.
Sturdy spruce dig in, roots entangled,
stand valiantly in permafrost.

Voices merge, rise from depths,
like dawning sun they swell.
Their magnitude undeniable,
push their way
gain strength and energy,
overcome darkened skies

You cannot dim her torch
it shines her promise for the many.
Those who passed her by in awe
eyes raised, hearts knowing
hope lives and shall
forevermore.

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People . . .

Some exhale fresh air
with every breath.
Others spew pollution
from every pore.

Some sow smiles
like Johnny planted trees.
Others hurl thunderbolts
of anger and fear.

Some believe in we
live in the our.
Others tout two,
us versus them.

Some stand tall
no matter their stature.
Others think small
no matter their height.

Some people hope
as they pray for the others.
Willing the others
compassion for all.

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Shared with dVerse OLN today….the virtual pub for poets. Everyone is invited to share one poem of their choosing. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join the fun! Photo in public domain.

Twiglet #8, two views

Like folding chairs
marred from years of abuse,
they wait to be used again.

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Like folding chairs unfolding
legs scrunched to body,
newborns squeal with protest.

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Twiglet #8 is folding chairs. A twiglet is a short phrase. Or a word. Maybe two. Its aim is to “prompt” a flow. A thought. The idea is to create a poem or piece of prose using the twiglet as the jumping off point – the shorter the better! New twiglet prompts from Misky appear each Tuesday — join the fun! Photo in public domain.

Sunshine the world . . .

unfurl hope
march, sing
stand resolute and tall.

Answer the call
to freedom this world,
compassion for all.



A second verbification poem for http://dversepoets.com dVerse today. Using nouns as verbs — sunshine and freedom. Saturday, January 21, 2017. First day of a global movement that has the potential for immense power. Photos from Boston’s Women’ Walk for America which included 100,000+ women, men and children. dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Come join us!

One Night

My eyes cannot see my face
and yet, in this room
this darkened place,

I see me in your love
your soft whisper breath
your fingertips across my skin.

You are my looking glass
image me into our dreams
light my heart, my soul,

light stars within my eyes
explode my senses,
nova me this night.

And then, as passions fade,
we shall sleep entwined
until the morrow’s dawn.

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I’m hosting Poetics at dVerse today – that wonderful virtual pub for poets. I’m asking folks to write a poem that includes a unique verbification – a noun or adjective used as a verb.  Think Google — originally a proper noun, the name of a company. People started to say “google that” and through repetition, it became a verb. How about “ganache me” — wouldn’t that be delectable?  My post, One Night, verbifies nova – a star that suddenly flares and then fades slowly. Come join us at dVerse to read and enjoy; and maybe, also, to post your own verbification! Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Photo: in public domain.

Haibun Delight

I sit waiting. Orchestral music building. Gilded theatrical surroundings. Audience hushed. Clara, in white flimsy floating gown, on pointe. Drosselmeyer’s back to us. His arms outstretched dramatically. I know what is coming. The audience knows what is coming. And yet we gasp as the tree begins to increase in size, taller and taller. And our applause grows louder and louder and spirits soar higher and higher.

darkness waits for dawn
sliver grows to orb of light
always gifts the morn

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Today we have a surprise guest host at dVerse.  Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time for haibun Monday.  A haibun is prose, which cannot be fiction, followed by a haiku. My prose refers to that most magical scene in the Nutcracker when the Christmas tree grows before our eyes. Photo: best sunrise photo I’ve ever taken in Provincetown!