Tag Archive | #dversepoets

Guns and Grudges

Who knows the questions?  or the time?
What if there is no time?
What if all the time has all been wasted, or lost?

When karma comes around,
where will it go?

Why keep running into the same things?
How did we get here?

If only I knew
how to fix it all–
I would be honored
to be unremissed.

I’ve been having trouble completing things lately. Bjorn at dVerse has us asking Google to finish our thoughts. Perfect.

What I learned:
1) Many of those searching on Google are thinking about death–lots of killing and dying going on.
2) And remiss. Many many of us feel we are remiss.

shell

conch 1 2

well, first the wayward wind—grey—if you tried to hold it, your hands remained empty–

the song of the sirens, spilled into a traverse of stone and sea—perhaps some dragon’s breath—a shape becoming uncovered, a shape turning into a wheel that reminds itself to spiral—

the beach is hungry, but in a subtle way—do not conclude that it can be ignored–

gaping portals
azure shimmering
meeting places

postcard shell 1

 

Stream of consciousness for Grace at dVerse.  I’ve been doing a lot of this because of a recent prompt I saw that incorporated this technique, where you took a treasured object and wrote a bunch of unedited stories about it.  This was from my origin story.

whelk 1 2015 comp

The original writing for this haibun took up a whole page–I just selected a few parts and made a kind of haiku by removing words from one “sentence”.  The drawings are once again taken from my archives.  I’ve spent a lot of time drawing shells.

shell tattoo close up s

summer in the city 2020

summer city 2s

dense with heat
drivers changing shifts
bus idles

basketball
gold headphones playing
by himself

skateboard clacks
over empty courts
echoed moves

line of carts
winds around corner
still waiting

masked hunger
distances between
uncovered

heavy clouds
greyness falling now
lightning flash

summer city 2 close up 2s

For Frank Tassone at dVerse, a haiku sequence reflecting what I saw out my window this morning.

summer city 1b s

My monoprints were inspired by de Kooning, but somehow ended up looking more like Pollock.

summer city 2 close up s

butterfly

butterfly s

sun casts its
eye on winged shadows,
dancing in
to the day–
tossed by light waves that play with
dappled melodies

butterfly close up s

I’ve been wanting to do another butterfly painting, and the dVerse prompt from Laura, flights of fancy, provided the perfect excuse.

triangulations

triangulations s

I am am three wishes
caught in a vast sea-tossed net
of indecision

triangulations close up s

Grace at dVerse asked us to use the words I am in a first person narrative.

Draw a Bird Day: Grackle

grackle photo s

Every beach vacation comes with its own bird. One year it was mockingbirds, one year a very vocal cardinal.  One year, crows.

This year we were accompanied by grackles. They would sit on the railing of the beach house speaking in their rusty tongue, lined up like soldiers. If one turned, all turned.  Once they saw someone was paying attention they would vocalize a bit more and suddenly disappear.

On the beach they appeared ahead of my walking path and waited for me, foraging in the waves. As soon as I caught up, they flew off ahead again.

Although it’s natural to see their iridescent strutting as a variation on crows, grackles are actually part of the lark family, related also to blackbirds and orioles.

But they do have a connection to crows—all back birds are said to know magic, to live on the borders of the possible unknown.

standing on the edge
between water and shoreline,
feathers glittering,

you pause, watch me watching you–
our eyes meet through layered light

grackle close up s

For Colleen’s #TankaTuesday, poet’s choice of words, a haibun.

Draw-a-Bird Day is placeholding here at method two madness each month until Nina returns.  You can find me at https://kblog.blog/ in the meantime.

I’ve also linked to dVerse Open Link night.