Film Noir, Take 39

Blissful dream journey
turns nightmare.
Ghosts whisper, dance,
twist, shimmer.
Lightning sparks, sounds echo.
Storm drizzles, bubbles open.
Breath flickers,
fearful giggle jars grin.
Clouds balloon, curl.
Breeze skips through leaves.
Dawn spills, melts rose-red.
Peppered blood-shadows
scar green spring grass.
Cue still lull.


Bjorn hosts dVerse today. We must write a Quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title) using the word “bliss.”  Quadrille Mondays occur every other week. We need only include the week’s one given word in our poem. Ultimately 44 Quadrille Weeks occur, thus 44 word prompts. Past words this series have included dreamfear, flicker, pepperdance, bubble, grin, lull, melt, shimmer, twist, skip, green, breeze, spill, rose, journey, jar, leaves, open, shadow, cloud, spark, cue, breath, scar, curl, whisper, dawn, ghost, giggle, drizzle, still, echo, sound, storm, spring, and balloon. This post includes all 39 words given thus far. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time.  Come join us!
Image: public domain at

I wonder . . .

if star dust is available
to those who seek a glimmer of hope

if lunar paths lead to satin slippered elves
ready to grant a wish

if buttercups picked yield petal tea
when imbibed bloom happiness

if imagination can quell fear
set pen to page with gut wrenched honesty

if simplicity can softly pad its way
through a cacophony of bombastic lunacy

I wonder
how to reach Neverland


Shared with dVerse where it’s OLN time.  Open Link Night – no prompt. A time to share a poem of your choosing.

Urgent Plea

Standing in lunar light, hands extended to cloudy, star studded skies, I scream to the heavens. Silhouette me!

This cursed disease. It is a time machine with rusted levers. Disengaging cogs cranking ever more slowly. They will stop far too soon. I cannot leave shadows behind. Dark thoughts of what-ifs and could-have-beens. Family and friends who will only remember the deep hollows of my eyes. The chaffed dry skin pulled tautly across these brittle bones.

They deserve better. I deserve better. Realign your celestial scrim! If there be Ursa Major, then let there be me. A forever galaxy of light.


Originally written for a Flash Fiction challenge/competition I saw — to write a piece of 100 words or less, using the word “silhouette.” Unfortunately, I waited too long and the deadline was past. Assurances to my readers: this is fiction. Photo in public domain at

I’ve decided . . .

to thrive in this topsy turvey world.
I shall walk upside down, toes in the stars,
leave diamond shaped footsteps in the sky.

When down is up and in is out,
I shall touch the soil with outstretched arms
fingers wriggling in earthworm rings.

I will be a handstand acrobat
padding through sunflower fields,
pollen dust knees attracting bees.

When the sun sets, I shall ride the moon,
kicking stars into nova showers
and I shall never wane.


Bjorn is tending bar at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. He challenges us to make our words into the equivalent of expressionistic art. “The simplest and most effective way to define expressionism is that you present the world in a totally subjective perspective.” He also asks us to write in the first person. Bar opens at 3:on PM Boston time. Come join us!  Artwork: The Starry Night by Van Gogh.


Surrounding reality melts as I seek the comfort of sleep. In that half-aura, lying with eyes closed, weight of quilt on chest, I work to release tense shoulders, facial muscles. Within my mind’s eye, weightless arms rise, outstretched. I float above my body, cares released, and soar into the night.

heron, tense, alert
dives hungry into dark sea
soars with silver fish

Björn hosts haibun Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Photo credit:  Bird Sirin by artist Sergey Solomko. We’re asked today to find artwork that does not illustrate our haibun, rather compliments its meaning. Haibun: short prose, not fiction, followed by haiku. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. 

Imaginary Friend

My Namrah, fantastical beast,
is always waiting near.
When fear accompanies darkness,
I know he will be here.

He flies me to the shining stars,
appears within my dreams.
Lifts me up on widespread wings
and soars through sequined streams.


Frank is our guest host at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, and asks us to write a poem in common meter. This is one of the most difficult types of poetry for me to master. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time.