dVerse

A Sharp Little Ditty

lillian61 Comments

Harrison Hedgehog
all a dither
in a quiver,
over Patty Porcupine. 

How to propose?
The poetic one,
undone,
by a prickly giggly gal. 

A note, inside a balloon,
a quadrille.
Then with her own quill,
Patty will pop the question!


It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. De is tending bar and asks us to giggle today 😊. Forty-four words, not including the title, that include the word “giggle.”  I figure in our crazy world, it’s a good day for a silly little ditty! Photo is of Harrison Hedgehog,  in public domain.  

This I’ve Learned

lillian45 Comments

When two become one, the base remains two.
When two multiplies to four, the base remains two.

Time invested.
Birthing and unconditional love.
Your child’s everything
until independence blooms.

Time apart increases.
They see more, learn more.
And you step in and out,
never fully immersed again.

And they leave.
You are the beginning two again.

Memories, age spots,
and more love.
Knowing as they become two and multiply,
it is a cycle born to repeat itself.

And the most important arc is the base of two.
That is the constant.

Sharing with Open Link Night at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today there is no prompt. We’re free to post one poem of our choosing, Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us! 

I see a suburb . . .

lillian16 Comments

one street after another
plat map symmetrical.
Slide rule log-a-rhythm’s
syncopated beat.
Red-amber-green lights
directing the inane.

Where are the pick-up trucks,
dust-kicking rolling roads,
clothesline flapping shirts,
and front porch swings?


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where we’re asked to write suburban poetry today!  Looking at my Seascape photos and post, also done today, I think I prefer the sea side to the suburbs!

Haibun from Bermuda

lillian36 Comments

In 1609, a British ship ran aground on an uninhabited island. No conversions. No wars with indigenous peoples. Bermuda is the epitome of a melting pot: British, American Indian, Portuguese, African. All came to her shores, whether willing or not.

Yesterday, I enjoyed a skirling ceremony on the parade grounds of a 19th century fort. Kilt clad drummers and bagpipers with those haunting droning tones, moved resolutely, sonorously. Today I sit, eyes and ears accosted by a Gombey Revue. One whistle, so loud it seems like twenty. And two frenetic drums reverberating through the room. A cacophony of color leaps, runs, and moves. All in seeming abandon. Every inch of every troupe member covered in cloth, sequins, feathers, gloves, masks and towering hats. Their movements tell their history.  I am mesmerized.

It’s as if a coin’s been tossed. Yesterday I saw heads and today I see tails.

elegant heron
yellow raucous kiskadee
nature’s kaleidoscope

    
Toni hosts Haibun Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Theme today is “the best things in life are free.” A haibun is prose (nonfiction) followed by a haiku. Bermuda’s Uncover the Arts Program runs November through March, with many free and wonderful things to see and do that give you glimpses into the country’s culture, history, and scenery. Our rented apartment in St. George’s, a UNESCO World Heritage site, has a deck that overlooks the harbor. I often see a beautiful heron in the early morning. And we always see and hear the yellow kiskadee, a very loud, bright yellow bird – its “song” sounds like its name, kiss-ka-dee, kiss-ka-dee.
Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!

I’ve decided . . .

lillian51 Comments

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.

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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.

Soar O’er Us in Painless Flight

lillian34 Comments

Warrior, intrepid spirit
woman of heartfelt substance.
For two years
you wore a mantle of prayers,
held fast to hope and faith.

Rest now, dear friend,
your spirit on angel’s wings.
For surely your downright obstinacy
in the face of overwhelming odds
has earned you the right to soar.


My friend, Louise, lost her two year battle with ovarian cancer Sunday night. She fought so hard to live. She will be missed by so many. 

Whose Child?

lillian53 Comments

I am your global child.
Barefoot puddle splasher
hand outstretched, ghostly smile,
sunken-eyed innocence.

I live in your cities.
Under bridges, in alleyways
on your streets.

Blessed are those . . .
which those?

See me. Hear me.
Offer me
a morsel of hope.

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Quadrille (44 words, not including title) for dVerse where Kim asks us to use the word or a form of the word “ghost.” DVerse, (the virtual pub for poets) opens with today’s prompt at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!

Nature Knew

lillian48 Comments

All they needed
was a gardener’s catalogue.
They should have known.

Tumpet vine,
also known as trumpet creeper.
Common colors, orange and orange red.

Some consider the plant invasive.
Drops hundreds of seeds
sending up suckers.

Keeping size under control
with aggressive pruning
is often necessary.

If allowed to grow,
can easily take over.
Extremely difficult to get rid of.

Containment
is a
consideration.

Prevent the plant
from reseeding
in other areas of the landscape.

Tumpet vine
can work its way
under shingles

and
cause damage
to foundations.

They should have known.

Stanzas 2 through 9 are quoted from two on-line garden sources. Shared with dVerse OLN, the virtual pub for poets where it’s open link time – share a poem of your choice today – no prompt. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come imbibe some words or pour your own!

Predilection

lillian51 Comments

First grader. Never mulled
no twists, just straight up.

Shaken on the playground,
meets bully spirits with bravado.

Some day, she’ll pass the bar.
And she’ll be the one.

We’ll toast her as she takes the oath.
Hail to the Chief.

Posted for dVerse Tuesday Poetics where De asks us to “mix it up a bit” by using terms having to do with the bar / pub scene, drinking terms. IE in Predilection’s case: mulled, twist, straight up, shaken (not stirred), spirits, bar, and toast. The trick is, the poem cannot be about the drinking scene! A fun prompt. Hail to the Chief is the music played at the inauguration after the presidential oath is taken, and thereafter when the President of the United States is introduced. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Stop on over and imbibe some words!