Yesterday Haunts

like water in desert

the beauty of you quenches

my lips part – breath gasps

for the feel of your strong arms

that have yet to hold me close


a bloom of scarlet

stark against a white canvas

then sheets – now snow drifts

both give note to the battles

of my birth and of my death


where there is no sound

one hears how your voice  trembles

its timbre thrills – pains

gripped in memory’s cruel grasp

yesterday haunts tomorrow


Today at dVerse Toni has us exploring the Tanka in its more traditional use. Having written non-traditional and super tanka before, I challenged my self to string a few together for something of a little narrative. The first tanka above are lovers at first sight, the middle – a soldier’s poem on his birth at his death and the last tanka – the lover left behind who remembers.

Tanka have a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable count, per line.  The first two lines of the tanka are known as the kami-no-ku – upper poem, the last two lines are the shimo-no-ku – lower poem.  The third line. middle line, is the kireji or, cutting line or pivot denoting the difference between the two parts.  This is important to remember when writing tanka.  There are also no uppercase letters, no punctuation (except for the short dash, like an aspirated breath) or title. Tanka are subjective and can be emotional, opinionated, sensual, and lyrical.  They move back and forth through time and use elegant phrases or euphamisms, simile and metaphor.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar – Form: Tanka

Winter Is Soon

In summer’s time I think of you
In summer’s time I think of you
I know your touch is soon to come
I know your touch is soon to come
I think summer’s come to know of you
Your touch in time is soon

Foreign and yet familiar, I feel the thoughts break in
Foreign and yet familiar, I feel the thoughts break in
Still I do not wish to give them form
Still I do not wish to give them form
And the familiar thoughts I feel break the wish
I, in foreign form, still do not give to them yet

Drifting, they skip and tumble my soul
Drifting, they skip and tumble my soul
A piercing fall of chills in the midst of Sol’s sultry hold
A piercing fall of chills in the midst of Sol’s sultry hold
Drifting of sultry Sol’s hold, they skip, tumble,
And chills a piercing fall in the midst of my soul

I do know I feel Sol’s familiar touch
Yet foreign thoughts come drifting
And break my wish to not think of you
They skip the fall time and give to them form
Still in the midst of summer’s sultry hold
A tumble of piercing chills is soon in my soul


Because when it comes to forms I am a masochist and Brian over at dVerse finds one of the most convoluted ones out there for us to take a whack at.

Welcome to the Paradelle

Invented by Billy Collins as a parody to the strict structure of most form poetry, the paradelle is a 4-stanza poem, where each stanza consists of 6 lines.

For the first 3 stanzas, the 1st and 2nd lines should be the same; the 3rd and 4th lines should also be the same; and the 5th and 6th lines should be composed of all the words from the 1st and 3rd lines and only the words from the 1st and 3rd lines.

The final stanza should be composed of all the words in the 5th and 6th lines of the first three stanzas and only the words from the 5th and 6th lines of the first three stanzas.

Thanks Billy, and Brian, this was fun! <– SARCASM

dVerse ~ Poets Pub : MeetingTheBar ~ FormForAll: Paradelles (i have obviously lost my mind)

Something For Ygritte

In obeisance

Head raised



Through the lungs


From the pulse




Across parted lips


In reverence of

The beauty

Spread before him

For the first time


For the first time



Her head

Thrown back

Mouth agape


His name

In rapture



The Lord’s Kiss


A 55 word poem for dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Form For All: Fifty-Five Shades of Grey


Spine Poem - book stackSadomasochism,
the right mistake.

Beauty’s punishment.

The girl who played with fire,
catching fire.

What you pay for, under a velvet cloak

The subtle knife

The golden ass

Twinkie, deconstructed


dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Form for All: The Hidden Poetry in Books

This is a new form (for me) called Sorted-book, or Spine poetry. In essence, a sorted-book or spine poem is a poem found or created from book titles from the spines of books. A photograph of the books is a part of the form itself.*

As I will not have time to go to a library to find/create something more comprehensive, the above is from a set of books I am donating to a local LBGT Center. That they were easily accessible by being right next to my computer helped.

And for those who may be confused by the placement of the last book/line in the poem here’s Urban Dictionary to help: Twink

I’ve since lost the photo, not sure how, and donated the books as stated. *Apologies.


So readily you sway to my sweet wile
And though we warn believe not all you see
I gaze at you enchanted by your smile

We tell each other truths to some degree
Yet in those truths we bury many lies
The veil well-worn over hypocrisy

Secure in all the ways that we devise
To keep our sadness hidden it is true
We smile and laugh, knowing it for disguise

But yet the truth does find ways to seep through
When the façade finally starts to fall
We’ll pay the piper with the penance due

The cold and bitter truth has come to call
That this marriage is over after all


Trying my hand at a Terza Rima Sonnet for dVerse

dVerse Poets Pub | Form for All : Terza Rima and Terza Rima Sonnet

Lion / Lamb


I place my palm against the frosted pane
Sighing as winds blow snow drifts all around
Winter has cast its shadow long and wide

A summer gal, this cold has been my bane
Oh this winter has indeed been a hound
Whose howls I’ve never learned to take in stride

I look for signs of life along the lane
Hardly a sign of beast or fowl is found
From winter’s bite, is something we all hide

It seems so long since blossoms dressed my mane
And grass not snow was blanketing the ground
I long to see one budding thing outside

So tired of this chill, last patience tried
I smile at last for signs of spring are spied


dVerse ~ Poets Pub |Form for All: Trireme Sonnet

All of Love

Promises made in gall of love
The lies some tell in thrall of love

Another sigh while pictures tear
The heart that breaks in stall of love

Lighting a flame, saying a prayer
Things done in hope in call of love

Sometimes one needs to lose to win
The second chance in fall of love

Then chains of fear soon fall away
And Raivenne flies your halls of love


Trying my hand at a traditional Ghazal form.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | FormForAll: On Ghazals and the Ghazal Sonnet

Like Jazz On A Snowy Eve

You walked in as always, someone grand
Full of ego and pride, swagger on display
The tone of my words caused your grin to wane
Releasing myself from you wasn’t planned
But I knew it was right and held my ground

The words once spoken tasted sweet as candy cane
Like summertime as delivered by Coltrane

I know I said goodbye, for that was all left to say
Despite your efforts to get the words all twisted
From the window I watch the receding back of you.
Your snowy footsteps a contrail, as you walk away
Then watched them get erased with a shovel’s scraping

Sometimes letting go is just all you can do
But Miles knows, it’s still just some kind of blue.

And like that it’s as though you never existed
The memory of us already starting to fade
I feel like I should at least want to cry
But my breath on the pane is the only thing misted
And I pour myself a glass, as the witching hour chimes

Snow done falling, staring out at a chilled winter sky
A glass of red ’round midnight, just Thelonious and I


A little etymology here…

The final couplet (the last two lines), is a direct quote of my Facebook status from Saturday. Those two lines inspired this write. I had also promised myself, since I had tried my pen at David James’ Karousel from last week’s FormForAll | Karoulsels and Weaves, that I would finally tackle his Weave form. However, I really like the final couplet so much that I could not bear to separate the lines that inspired it all to fit the form. So, as I am wont to do with forms, and my apologies to David, I compromised. The result you see is a variation on the Weave form. Think of it as adding two extra strands to the pattern. The rhyme scheme here is: abcad cc befbg ff ehiej ii (and so on).

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 81

Yes It’s Time

I sit here in this foreign clime
Skyscrapers far as the eye can sweep
And strange rurals, bring forth a yawn
Once joys, now all things I detest
I’m going home, aye, yes it’s time.

My home so many scribe, regale
Of craven and the ones of brawn
The men of yore adorned in crests
Words that make one laugh and weep
And yet fall flat upon truth’s tale

The hills that rise and fall gently
Row upon row of verdant breasts
Their knolls soft, their valleys deep
That lull in dusk as well as dawn
My lands of home they call to me

Oh yes, my life will travel and roam
Yet never thought these sojourns would keep
Me so long from the lands that I love best
This homesickness must be withdrawn
Aye, yes it’s time, I’m going home


Trying out David James’ Karousel form.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Form For All: Karousels and Weaves

The Wind Grows Colder

The wind grows colder
Winter chills
And on this first  night

I seek You
As I always have

With my heart and soul
So weary
Of the questioning

Sometimes loud
Sometimes in silence
I just pray

The wind grows colder
Winter chills
Awaiting Your word

Still I pray
What more can be done
I know not

I who have followed
Who believes
Is my faith not true?

Your response
In the deep nothing
Is silence

The wind grows colder
Winter chills
And so does my soul


Playing around, mixing the 5/3/5 and the 3/5/3 versions of the La Lune poetry form.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Form For All: La Lune