Stolen

Posted on February 21, 2023 by Raivenne

The memory of it still lingers
Like sticky nectar on our fingers
Made the more so in summer’s heat
From the vain attempts to sluice
Our chins of honeyed peaches juice
But in a moment replete
Under the fading eye of Sol
We heed the thrill to shun control
The stolen kiss even more sweet

<>==========<>==========<>

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics: Prelude to a Kiss

Today at dVerse the challenge from Kim (Kim881), is to write a poem about kissing, a special kiss that still haunts you, a peck, a snog, a kiss hello or a kiss goodbye. Whatever it is, try to capture the wordless intimacy of the act.

And this stolen kiss comes via the Nove Otto

The Nove Otto poetry form is a nine-lined poem with 8 syllables per line (isosyllabic). The rhyme scheme is as follows: aabccbddb

Obsession – My Ode to Joe

Posted on November 22, 2022 by Raivenne

This is my confession it is my obsession
I have a natural predilection to its addiction

Memories of my father and his ochre cup
Attached to his side, breakfast, lunch and sup’

My oath to drink only one all my friends joke about
I would offer my first-born rather than do without

An olden concoction for which we modernists still toil

To smell its aroma fills me with such frustration
To see its liquid flow as I pour fills me with anticipation
To taste its liquid heat is such a sensation
To feel its burn down my throat fills me with elation
To hear that last swallow fills me with such trepidation

For some it is more precious than diamonds, gold or oil

An obsession shared by many on this orb
As sip after sip it is so greedily absorbed

I oscillate between the need the makes my heart burst
And the joy of feeling the elixir oust my deep thirst

I’m like a kid with chewiest of toffee
Nothing beats that first oomph of coffee

Glass coffee mug with line indicating it is safe to speak to owner of said mug when the contents have reached the bottom line. — Yes, this is my coffee mug at work.
Yes, my colleagues know not speak to me until my coffee reaches well under that bottom marker.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: Cheers!

Today at dVerse Poetics our host and pub-tender paeansunplugged invites us to raise a glass and sip on some verbiage to that all quenches our thirsts. I chose the libation that gets many of us up, running and ready to face the world with less of a snarl in the mornings – well at least me.

Morning Scent

Posted on August 23, 2022 by Raivenne

The fresh scent of lawn anywhere
Can sometimes take me there
Magnolia wafting on morning breeze
Even if I cannot see the trees
Yes, sometimes a hint of sweat
Remembrances of you beget
The mourning in memory spurred
When into earth you were interred

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #158: Morning Has Broken
dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: A World of Common Scents

Yesterday on Quadrille Monday Linda Lee invites to put our best morning forward in a quadrille.

A Quadrille is simply a poem of 44 words, excluding the title. It can be in any form, rhymed or unrhymed, metered, or unmetered. You MUST use the word “morning” in your poem.

Today dVerse guest host Jo invites us to A World of Common Scents and challenges us to write a poem of scents.

Linda’s “morning has broken” struck at Melpomene who cruelly reminds pleasant scents do not always pleasant memories make.

Memento Moirai

Posted on June 15, 2022 by Raivenne

From Clotho’s components
All those moments

This life is made, with intangible string
My traits and gait by Fate compiled
A certain butterfly is already on the wing
I emerge from the cocoon voicing the wild

Thread in Lachesis clime
Will be lost in time

When born the days ahead seem vast
Each stich becomes a memory vapor
Yet all too soon those years are past
I voice them all, on pixels, on paper

Of Atropos’ domain
Like tears in rain

I must go in for the fog is rising
My words will speak for me beyond the snuff
Always verbally enterprising
Last words are for fools who haven’t said enough

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: words of departure

Laura Bloomsbury tends the bar and invites us to write a “deathbed,” poem with the inclusion of a quote from a selection provided. Typical of Muse – using just “a” quote wasn’t an option.

The following are in my take on the prompt where Fate/Moira may control my body but my voice will live on.

“All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain”
-Roy Batty, Blade Runner
“A certain butterfly is already on the wing.”
-Vladimir Nabokov
“I must go in for the fog is rising”
-Emily Dickinson
“Last words are for fools who haven’t said enough.”
-Karl Marx

Luna Sees

Posted on June 7, 2022 by Raivenne

They sit on the roof drinking in the sight
Of diamonds twinkling in the witching hour
Alone at last on this shortest night
A blanket is beneath them, but heat scours

Tar and flowers scent this roof top tower
Fingers follow trails on skin damp with sweat
Where light cotton clothes have little power
And their slow loss causes no one to fret

Cool jazz plays on an old cassette
As the solstice weaves its most magic ways
Soft curls are set free from its shell barrette
As I softly smile on their loving plays

Throes of passion begins, they close their eyes
And breezes carry away their heightened sighs

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: Sun, Sand, Storms, and Celebrations: Summer Ekphrastic

Though it’s not technically summer (yet), here in the northern hemisphere, we’ve already had a few scorching days. Merrill who is tending the pub tonight, entices us to pick from a selection of paintings evoking a variety styles and summer themes to write a summer ekphrastic poem inspired by what you see or feel.

I chose: “Tar Beach 2” Quilt 1990
by Faith Ringgold, American, born 1930. Produced at The Fabric Workshop and Museum, Philadelphia, founded 1977 Philadelphia Museum of Art. I can’t upload it, but you can see it here.

Before I even clicked on the link to view it, the title alone took me back to the days of rooftop barbeques, nighttime parties and things that happened in the late-late-late nights that only the moon sees.

First Night

Posted on May 19, 2022 by Raivenne

Less our doubts will be,
Stowed away with trouble.
Some sweet peace to sleep with.

In this our first night to be,
Holding love for life.

Time under this moon;
Light on our twining bodies, so good.
Will this first night never to end!

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Compound me a Sleepy Quadrille night!

I pull a double dVerse duty swinging two prompts in one write:

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille night! Sleepy times.

First Sarah (sarahsouthwest) invited us to write a sleepy little quadrille. A quadrille, is simply a poem of 44 words, excluding the title. It can be in any form, rhymed or unrhymed, metered, or unmetered. You MUST use the word “sleep” or some form of the word in your poem.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: Compound me!

Next Lillian insists we regale her a poem using at least one compound word from a list provided.

The catch being to split the word over.
Achieving its two components; yet keep it together. (<– see what I did there)

Naturally, does Muse just use one compound word in a poem? Noooooo…. Let’s make every confounded end/start line be compounded – yeah! Oh!, and still make a quadrille – right!

Tea with Florence the Monarch

Posted on March 22, 2022 by Raivenne

They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather
Goblin Market – Christina Rosetti

Why swaddled in the rolling fog
his ragged chemise color of bog
The goblin worm had filled me with fright
Dare I show upon first light,
Somehow, I knew it wasn’t right
So ear against the wall I shove
To hear the trumpet of new voices
In offer of different choices
Not the nightmares feared of
They sounded kind and full of loves

Thus, I the ignored the fiend’s masquerade
Not a moment more to be waylaid
I am a monarch, I was ready
And chrysalis pieces flow and eddy
On the breeze like confetti
Among the violet hued heather
As I emerge from my hidey-hole
In ochre gown mirrored in trim of coal
With only the sky as tether
In the pleasant weather

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics – Colour me poetry

Tonight at the pub, Sarah tends bar for this session of Poetics.

Inspired by the intriguing names of paint samples, we are prompted to choose one of the below paint names and use it as the inspiration for a poem:

Trumpet, Tea with Florence, Chemise, Confetti, Goblin, Mirror, Rolling fog, First light, Hidey hole, Masquerade

We are further challenged to incorporate as many of the words as we can and to have fun.

Oh, that was said to the wrong person. It is my natural wont when see a list of options with a prompt to select one to try to use them all. And because I am that gal, I do so in one of my favorite poetry forms, a glosa. Using two lines of Goblin Market by Christina Rosetti to tell this 1st person tale of a butterfly’s beginnings.

Two Sides

Posted on August 24, 2021 by Raivenne

All day and night
I want of you – I
Want so deeply that “want”
Is too trite a word – this
To me, my very breath – is to
Be in this love – to be
Yours and yours only
Forever and a day

What you ask of me, I ignore it all
Yes, I submit easily, but I
Don’t want what you want
This moment is all there is
This is all I want – to
Have you now – to be
Yours and only yours
But only for tonight

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: For the love of puzzles . . .

Lillian is hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub where she shares her love of how one word leads to another in crossword puzzles and their cousins in style: Acrostic Poetry.

In Word Acrostic poetry the first word or the last word of each line in a single stanza poem spells out a message.

Lillian has created an Acrostic Plus where the first letter of each line in the first stanza spells out one or more words, while the last letter of each line in the next stanza spells out something different, and so on, but together there is one message.

We’re challenged to either write a poem that in some way relates to a puzzle, includes the word “puzzle”; or try our hand at an Acrostic poem. I combine a Word Acrostic with Lillian’s Acrostic Plus to tell a familiar tale of Mars and Venus,

Whispers From Erato

Posted on July 20, 2021 by Raivenne

Muse whispering warriors ear

Take me now; I have need
Lexis to which I must heed

Ethereal whisper in my ear
Diaphanous sight before my eyes
Gossamer touch against my skin

The first preface to our prologue
Vellum void of phrase and prose

Let me bathe you in ballad
Let me shower you in sestina
Let my sweet imagery of nothing
Become your metaphor of everything

Let your periphrasis wrap me in symbolisms
Let your euphemisms surround me in similes
Let our soul be one for the discourse of rhythm
for the dialogue of reason, for the diction of rhyme

Let us fall down in the shadow of the valley of meter
Let us rise up on the rock of ages and iambs
Let us bask in the most of incremental repetition
Until only the onomatopoeia of our couplet is left

Diamante drops on parchment and papyrus
The final edict to our epilogue

Gossamer touch against my skin
Diaphanous sight before my eyes
Ethereal whisper in my ear

Lexis to which I must heed
Take me now; I have need

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics: Who’s your Muse?

Today Ingrid tends bar and invites us to choose our muse. I choose Erato, muse of love poetry and lyric poetry to let her sweet whispers scream everything. For when she has need to speak I take heed to listen, and write…

My Words

Posted on June 9, 2021 by Raivenne

I’m stripped soul-naked standing bare
To a universe made of blank paper
Its mocking nakedness haunts me
Seductively taunts me with its vapor

I see my words as pieces of my deepest soul
Shattered apart in my passions throes
Then brought together in a multi-hued mosaic
A stained glass window, if you will, of prose

My words reaching through time with voices of one from long ago
My words reaching for the vernacular of the street griot, ya kno’

Words lose me in the folds of its scripts
And lets me discover myself yet again
Words listen to me when no one else wants to
Words speaks to me in a way no one else can

Sometimes my words scroll across my monitor
To let me say what I want to say
Sometimes I resort to pen and paper,
To express my words in some other way

It sometimes scares me to the core, being so beholden to such
I’m scared of being pushed away, I care for my words so much

Yes, I cater to word’s selfish lusts
It’s a call I’ll always heed
Words give off a satisfaction
That’s almost carnal in need

But lately my words are not happy
With the scratch of the mighty pen
There’s this new desire to be heard
And it’s a most frightening yen

Paper no longer holds them, my words have something to say
But in the excitement to be heard, my words get in their own way

I risk the bleat of my vocals failing
Changing the meanings I devise
Yes, my words on paper are lovely
My words from my voice are otherwise

But words have trusted me all this time
In the handling of its care
Spoken word is the natural evolution
If only I take up the dare

So, I put my trust in my words, as it puts in me alike
I take a prayer and a breath and step up to this mic

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics: Take a risk!

Tricia at dVerse challenges us to explore the theme of risk. Whether it is tackling difficult subjects or laying bare a personal struggle in vivid detail, exploring a new writing form that you may find “risky” or unconventional; perhaps the risk we take falling in love.

Write on any topic as long the word “risk” is used,

Raivenne-lations

Doing what you like is freedom; liking what you do is happiness.

Tag Archives: Poetics