Tag Archives: dVerse Poets



He rolls over,
        pinning her
by her long hair.
He sleeps on it.
      She draws his dreams
           through its long shafts,
works out his days
into her web.
      Her hair,
black raven coal
      falling down the chute
between his hands.
      Her hair
to be pulled down.
Her hair
his fist
   in each other.
Her hair
his mouth
the cave
     a feast of hair.
Her hair side-winding on the ground.
     Her hair whips
his face until he weaves
a bridge of it
      to cross the high crevasse.
Her hair
with a baby
    swinging from it.
         her hair woven
               into bags and harnesses,
    yet when a strand
slips from behind her ear,

it makes necessary:
he assembly line

just to invent



Oops, sorry… I missed that I was supposed to start with “This is not a . . . . I was in a hurry because I was afraid the posting time was about to close!  For dVerse Poets Prompt: An object.

Shy Cynic

Shy Cynic

I find your droll smile curious.
What’s more I find it spurious.
Your skewed lip, its mocking curl
as you address that certain girl
cannot hide the truth that you’ve been smitten.
By the love bug, you’ve been bitten.
In your heart, I see a lake
more moist than that dry smile you make.
Your truth’s exposed there in your eyes.
Please lose that smirk your glance belies.



For dVerse Poets: Eyes


The theme of the camp is “When you Wish Upon a Star.” This camper has taken the theme seriously on his mask.


Your computer shares
whatever you choose for it to share.
If what leaks out is happiness,
then you’ve enriched us all.
Let humor be an infection you spread.
Share files overflowing with empathy,
documents that are the organs of kindness,
And above all, 

For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Happiness

I wrote this intending to edit it, but when I counted the words, it was exactly 44 words, so I am going to try to let it be. In itself, it formed the star shape. I only discovered it when I centered it.
I changed two words because I had totally left out humor and had truth called for twice. So it was justified. I also switched “have folders” overflowing with empathy.” to “Share files overflowing with empathy.” The reason for the change is probably obvious. Okay..I am also changing “stores” and “store”  with “shares” and “share.” Really need one letter more in line two, but leaving it alone. For now. Stay tuned.

Crazy Shirley Sounds Off

Crazy Shirley Writes with Her Teeth, Lips and Tongue

When? says Crazy Shirley,
    is the dreadlock on that bucolic
                    Samson man
         gonna just fall off?

      He’s been dipping it in
beef stew and sugar
all day,
fahrenheit been hitting the top of the bulb!

He’s in a ubiquitous position,
’cause Bob Marley’s not in the general vocabulary
           of this fraternity.

He’s kinda mucous-tasting and fecund.
     His face? Chalk-white and he uses
         a kitten in the morning for a wash cloth.

They’re heavy.

               And a goldfish is gutteral
     while an owl
             sorta chortles and

I’m not that keen on bucolic,
          I got a Ticonderoga tintype
                            that’s got the most fantastic hue!


A “sound” poem for dVerse Poets

Harvest Moon

Harvest Moon

Peeking in the window,
blanketing our dreams,
It is a welcome harvest moon
whose straight and narrow beams
filter through our window blinds,
bathing us with light,
coming once again
to fulfill its yearly rite—
a calm and soothing presence
that  mitigates the night.

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: blanket.

Give Me That Blue (Quadrille for dVerse Poets)


Not the blue of a heart before forgetting.
The blue of the sky above Colima Volcano,
no other clouds in it except one puff
of earth’s hot breath becoming visible
in the cool morning air.
Like blue caught in icicles.
Give me that blue.


A personal note of interest. The water in my house is heated by this volcano!
For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Sky

Home (A Nonet for dVerse Poets)


Broken shadows across the cracked ground
flow together when skies darken.
As night birds start to call,
we start our long walk
to that place where
light returns 
when we

The opening line of this Nonet is a line from the poem “To the Light of September” by  W.S. Merwin. According to the nonet rules, each line had one less syllable, descending from nine to one.

For the dVerse Poets prompt



Once talk at the next table had hushed, I made the observation
that it was likely they were listening to our conversation.  
And though they were both smirking and though their eyes were glistening,
they swore they were not eavesdropping. They were just overlistening!


For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Eavesdrop. (This true story happened to a friend and me in 1981 in a small diner in Cannon Beach, Oregon.) A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words.