Tag Archives: dVerse ~ Poets Pub

The Nightbird

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23

A man stands on the  rail gripping its notches
Notions crescendo in his heart once more
As Sol sets again in deep hued swatches

In the near distance the nightbird watches

He gazes at the still deepening skies
Heartbreak are words clutched tight in his hands
Gives a resolute shrug the heart belies

In the near distance the nightbird sighs

He looks down upon the street through his tears
Passers-by unaware he’s on the edge
The cacophony of sound comes to him as jeers

In the near distance the nightbird fears

From past dusk to near dawn as its stead
The nightbird sings its pleas with dread
The winds carries the calls from overhead

In the near distance the man knows not what was said

He balances on, his thoughts in muddled heaps
Reclamation from his sorrow long gone
A last glance to Sol rising then he simply leaps

And in the near distance the nightbird weeps

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In honor of Harper Lee, Kelly at dVerse invites us to tell a story in narrative poem. There is an added bonus for featuring a mockingbird, but my muse had other ideas.

dverse

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics:  Listen to the Mockingbird

I Remember

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4

I remember
that first night
the feel of his hair
intertwined with my fingers
the touch of his skin
as I grazed against it with my chin
the yearning in my bones
when he held me in his arms
the pressure of his lips
as his tongue grasps with mine
the taste of his kiss
and the scent of his hair
the way his body feels
pressed tightly with mine
the heat between our bodies
invigorating, and passionate
the ripples of my flesh
as his hand glides over my breast
as my next pulse quickens
I’m numb to all
but the sense of pleasure
beneath his softened lips
as the growth of passion exceeds us
need turning my voice hoarse
as I realize the noise I hear
is naught but my moan of his name
the steam rising from our backs
the sense of power
flowing through his limbs
eagerness withstanding
the warmth of his breath
around my nipple, gently sucking
the trace of his tongue
as it glides down the slope of my stomach
the softness and the passion
as he brings me to heightened ecstasy
setting each nerve on fire
the firm grip of my hands
as I bring my hips to meet his
clashing gently in the night
to bring our souls home
again and again and again
feeling the nod of his head
and the arch of his back
under the strokes of my nails
feeling the beat of his heart
as it beats in rhythm with mine
we have had many
such nights since then
but that first night
yes, oh yes
I remember

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dverse
dVerse ~Poets Pub | Open Link Night #160

This Darkness Deep

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4

When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand
Norah Jones – “Don’t Know Why”

This darkness deep inside me steeps
Its grip upon my soul stings
But I don’t remember how to release
I want to cry, but tears won’t fall
Hidden deep inside past my recall
And thus it remains to my dismay
I can’t shake it in the face others’ misery
And I tell myself I should want to be free
Yet sleepless I shrugged feigning the blasé
When I saw the break of day

This darkness deep inside me steeps
It slinks around like a sentient thing
Sneering at dawn’s early light
Sometimes I remember this shouldn’t be
But then that hope is swept from me
This melancholy holding me in sway
I’m losing grip on my control
Yet I smile, I laugh, I play the role
Because I don’t know what to say
I wished that I could fly away

This darkness deep inside me steeps
Crept into my soul on silent wings
And taken up residence there
So long I’ve floundered in this brackness
I know not the way from this blackness
And when it’s more than I can stand
I buckle under feeling drained
As all my aspirations have waned
To sail, to soar, live a life grand
Instead of kneeling in the sand

This darkness deep inside me steeps
A siren’s call, my dirge it sings
And I start to think I like the sound
Wondering how long before I break
I pray the Lord my soul to take
This misery in mocking demand
For the silver lining I can’t find
Knowing it’s not just in my mind
Joy’s a thing I can’t understand
Catching teardrops in my hand

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics

Within The Folds

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8

Within the folds of her mind
For every seam there is assigned
A memory that is now canned
That which became her life’s brand
It girds the maze that is confined
Within the folds of her mind

Within the folds of her mind
Dislike of coffee now enshrined
Each water fountain where she was banned
Indignities suffered firsthand
Nightmares you hope never to find
Within the folds of her mind

Within the folds of the mind
Is reciprocity outlined
She loves all things small or grand
Friends and family with equal demand
Even her cruel words were still kind
Within the folds of her mind

Within the folds of her mind
Are holiday dinners all refined
Homegrown ale that she manned
To be anything thing but bland
Secret recipes for which we pined
Within the folds of her mind

Within the folds of her mind
Where her faith was divined
Her heart the first to understand
The touch that is the Master’s hand
God’s grace was her soul defined
Within the folds of her mind

Within the folds of her mind
Thoughts not working as designed
She sometimes simply does not understand
I’m the adult whose hide she occasionally tanned
She’s slowly losing the ties that bind
Within the folds of her mind

Within the folds of her mind
An unfair fate, to one who shined
Now a fading cerebral quicksand
All that it held and could withstand
Just enough there to remind
Within the folds of her mind

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dverse

dVerse ~Poets Pub | Open Link Night – 159

Muse Away

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6

You say I astound and tease you, tell me how?
You have withheld yourself from all that I allow.

Giving baroque words flourish; this you’ve refused to nourish

I have called to you on the veranda on warm spring day
I was the ripple of warmth felt in a snow drift’s pattern sway
Though you held an umbrella drops of me hit you anyway
Yet you’ve discarded all words that I’ve begged for display
Love, what has caused this rift? Why deny yourself my gift?

Know that only for a select few, I share this I’ve given to you

What fear has triumphed so much that you cannot heed
That which for lucky others is the very blood they bleed
I give unto the language of lamentations desperate need
And word the story of a triumph over a dastardly deed
How oft’ you silenced this voice? As though you have choice!

Again you have me in hand, say the words; make them grand

Deny me not, I am your muse, know this passion will last
The days to chase me away is now a thing of the past

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dVerse ~Poets Pub | Open Link Night : Week 158

Memories On My Mind

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19

Those memories, times I’m sure we’ll never forget
Those feelings we can’t put aside
For what we had, sometimes I tried to understand
But it’s so heavy on the mind
The Commodores / Still

I watch a golden leaf fall
Autumn’s glory starting to call
And I’m trapped in the past, a moment set
The heart stops the clock time has met
Those memories, times I’m sure we’ll never forget

It all comes flooding anew in my heart
As though Time itself had not ripped us apart
Memories from when we lain astride
Each whisper, each touch freshly decried
Those feelings we can’t put aside

We weren’t perfect, but each grew stronger
I didn’t expect forever, but certainly longer
Only to have it gone at Fates command
These things I came to learn first-hand
For what we had, sometimes I tried to understand

Oh what I would give to have time slip
And once more have the taste of your lips
The Fates are almost never so kind
And with the moment gone I continue my daily grind
But it’s so heavy on the mind

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Using a modified glosa for a poetic rendering of a moment relived in time.

dVerse ~Poets Pub | Open Link Night 

Daily Post Logo
The Daily Post – Daily Prompt : 3/3/16 Longing

To Remember – To Forget

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22

I hope someday I get to remember

– Madame President and her First Lady

I hope someday I get to forget

– That a cross burning in America happened in this decade

I would like to remember

– All the Spanish I learned in high school

I would like to forget

– The taste of my own toes on too many occasions

Sometimes I forget

– just how old I am

But my two over 30-year-old sons help me remember

– just how young I’m not

I forgot…

– How to tie a real bow tie

I remember…

– Your knowing smile when I tugged it loose in one smooth motion

If only I could remember

– The exact day, hour, minute I became your woman

If only I could forget

– The exact day, hour, minute I became your widow

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At dVerse we’re asked “How we forget” as inspired by the poem of the same name by Loyce Gayo. I went off track and chose a more personal route to remember as well as forget.

dVerse ~ Poets Rub | Poetics : How We Forget

Questions

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27 
How does 
      a kiss stop being just a touch of lips
      polite in greeting, but emotionally fleeting?

Where do 
      the contents of two souls 
      start to slowly collect and then spontaneously connect?

Why now 
      in this new friendship 
      still learning ours feats and flaws, something gives pause?

What has 
      shifted in our core 
      and lay bare that which now has us both hopeful yet scared?

Who are 
      we to question 
      the stars and the moon that such an epiphany could happen so soon?

When does 
      a kiss stop 
      being just a kiss, turning some magic corner and becomes this?

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Open Link Night : Week 154

The Power of Speech

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12

At six I didn’t sleep for over a week
Fear of being damned for a kiss on the cheek
Words my pastor were constant to preach
Ah yes, the power of speech

Working for my degree made my nerves fry
Kept hearing the words “It never fails to try”
Encouragement is a subject not required to teach
Ah yes, the power of speech

Her beauty takes my breath away
“Nice boobs” was all I thought to say
Her slap corrected that social breach
Ah yes, the power of speech

Two years later I have a different surprise
The diamond of intent bringing tears to her eyes
“Yes” brings in a star once out of my reach
Ah yes, the power of speech

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Open Link Night : Week 153

Remember

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9 
Within your hearts abode
                  a code
The slices of our past
              can last
Simple joys to not perish
              but cherish
Go on and  reminisce
               since
You hold the key
             see?
There will be your smile
                  awhile
Within the territory
             memory
             glory
              me

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Welcome to Echo Verse

An Echo Verse is a poem where the last word or syllable in a line is repeated or echoed underneath to form a rhyming line.

dVerse Poets | Meeting the Bar: Echo Verse