Tag Archives: dVerse Poets

Crystal and Amber

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Crystal and Amber
(For Anmol)

Angel, wherever you fly, may you have a charmed life.
May the scroll of your life coil without kink,
your totems protect you from the cruel wrinkles of life
and those unenlightened creatures who inhabit them.

May you be you without subterfuge.
May you expose your polka dots, no matter how flamboyant.
May the keys you possess open the doors where you want to go
and the scent of your spirit waft out on a welcome breeze.

What is key in you—let it write your story,
and let the stone you were born to guide your way.
Patience. Wisdom. Balance.
Bring to the world what it needs more of.

The part of the world that knows it needs you
prays to whatever God it can believe in
that you be met with
an open hand.

I wrote this poem using the symbolism of this necklace that I made a few years ago. It was written in response to Anmol’s prompt which invites us to write a poem about pride, gender fluidity, sexuality, protest, et al. or to write about the continuing fight for equality and the realization of the aspirations of the marginalised communities.For dVerse Poets

Beach Boys, Second Generation

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(Click on photos to enlarge)

Beach Boys, Second Generation

See the motley little band
trudge the beach, tip cup in hand.
A funnel stuffed into a hose––
is held to lips and then one blows.
Two other small musicians lug
a twenty-liter water jug.
Later, one begins to hum
accompanying his buddy’s drum.



I’ve shown these photos before, but the poem is new, for: dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Drum

My Room

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My Room

Papers on the desktop, laptops on the bed,
sticky notes for everything I can’t store in my head:
birthdays of my family, phone numbers of friends–
all the things I need to buy, the listing never ends.
Shoes up on my night table because my new dog chews
everything that he can reach; but, especially, shoes!
Two alarm clocks, one for me for when I must get up,
the other for the medicine I must give the pup.
Stacks of books and manuscripts finished and unfinished,
and an empty Kleenex box I know should be replenished.
Flashlights, lanterns, batteries–for when the power goes out.
In the rainy season, it will happen—have no doubt.
Closets crammed from wall-to-wall with sizes twelve to grander,
I’d probably have a lot to wear if I could get a gander
at what’s inside but I’m afraid it won’t be happening soon;
for thoughts of organizing it make me want to swoon!
Many pictures on the wall and bookshelves full of books,
sculptures on the mantel, in crannies and in nooks.
There’ll be a new addition in about a minute,
for my room is not completed until I am in it!

For the dVerse Poets prompt: Rooms.

On the Fix

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On the Fix

She’s on the fix:
repairing hems, 
cleaning the oven,
puttying cracks,
organizing drawers,
straightening picture frames
with no idea
of how to fix
a cracked heart. 
She needs a breaking
of old habits
—a lesson 
on letting be,
leaving her broken things
to heal themselves.

 

 

Here is the prompt: https://dversepoets.com/
and below is where you can go to read other responses:
For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Fix

Cold Jack Ice

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The dVerse Poets prompt was to write a poem inspired by one of these vegetable names. I’m going to try to use them all: Black Beauty, Trail of Tears, Lazy housewife, princess, purple queen, Jacob’s cattle, The Czar, Wizard, golden acre, dazzling blue, purple sword, Jack ice, Reine de Glaces, blue fire, aurora, tender and true.

Cold Jack Ice

As accomplished in his love-making as at a game of dice,
his name was John Dukakis, but they called him Cool Jack Ice
because his smile could warm or freeze, depending on the way
his luck played out or didn’t, as it changed from day to day.

When he purchased Jacob’s cattle and his Golden Acre Farm,
He thought that he would use them to impress the new school marm.
He’d be a wizard as a cowboy, a czar of cultivation.
He’d win her as his bride before the coming school vacation.

He’d heard she was an ice queen a real “Reine de Glacé.
And since he was the King of Ice, he knew the game to play.
He donned his purple sword and a coat of dazzling blue.
If he was to be her Lochinvar, he knew just what to do.

He swooped down on his Ellen at the school fete,
saved her from the stag line and took her on a date.
The aurora borealis shone down from far above
As, feigning true and tender, he declared undying love.

He called her his sweet princess for those months he sought to woo her.
It was only after they were wed that he began to rue her.
She was a lazy housewife, he said, and counted coup,
taunting her as his black beauty as he beat her black and blue.

She fled into the freezing cold, a trail of tears behind her,
taking refuge in a secret place where he would never find her. 
And as her bruises turned her into a purple queen,
she plotted out her vengeance, silent and unseen.

They say it was blue fire that streaked across that night
that both Jack Frost and Black Jack Ice took their final bite.
What footsteps there were left were so filled up with snow
that not a single tracker could tell where they might go.

Severed from its body, Jack’s face had ceased to smile
as the one who wiped it off his face sped onward, mile by mile.
on Jack’s steed, and since that day, no one has defamed her,
for to put it bluntly, not one who knew him blamed her!

And, in case you didn’t read it before, here’s another poem I wrote about an heirloom tomato: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2020/02/12/aunt-lous-underground-railroad-tomato-for-black-history-month/

FordVerse Poets prompt.

Visitations

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Visitations

He hovers in the corner less frequently now. His face is rarely seen in clouds. He leaves no further messages as the cats walk over my computer keys. It is true that sometimes I catch the scent of him, but it’s not often and not for long. Who knows how long a spirit is tied to earth? The cats sense him sometimes, as do the dogs. The candelabra with its arms arched upwards and the carved wooden Virgin of Guadalupe statue rising up like a head in front of it, in a dark room backlit by kitchen lights, has given me a start now and then; but I soon realize it is not him. None of these places are where I keep him now. It is only long after midnight, when, exhausted, I fall to dreams, that his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream.

 

 

For the dVerse Poets Pub prompt, we are to write a 144 word prose piece that contains the quote “his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream” from Maya Angelou’s poem “Caged Bird.” Read other responses to the prompt HERE.

Funny Man

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Photo by janko Ferlic on Unsplash. Used with permission

Funny Man

He invented silly. It began with how he looked.
His eyes were slightly bulbous and his nose was long and hooked.
But he had such charm within him that it really didn’t matter.
Choosing between Brad Pitt and him? I would choose the latter!

 

 

 

For dverse poets quadrille prompt: silly and Here is where you can read more poems on the subject. A quadrille is a poem that contains exactly 44 words.

Shelter in Place

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The dVerse Poet’s prompt today is the word “flush.” The poem is to be a quadrille—-exactly 44 words, not counting the title.

Poetry

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Poetry

There
Is a place in all of us
Where we converse
With a different part of our mind.

Anyone
Can do it.
All it takes
Is turning off the television
Or the free cell solitaire
And bringing up a blank page on the screen
And filling it.

A poet
Is someone who chooses to go there often
And to add to the bank
Of wisdom
That comes from the part of us
Whose language is
Poetry.

 

For dVerse Poets Open Link Night.

Magic

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Magic

Wish upon that falling star and
put a four leaf clover in your button hole.
Carve our initials into soap and rub them into us.
Light a candle and chant a spell,
because I want,
because
I’ve got to have
magic.

For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge