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

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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

Unbinding

Posted on January 9, 2023 by Raivenne

You’re too brazen girl
was oft the scold.
Be quiet and meek,
Fit in this mold

But my carefree soul was finding,
That it chaffed in the binding.

So, this woman breaks
from convention’s hold.
Aye, I will be daring
I will be BOLD!

“I Have Been Set Free” by Joanne Holbrook

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Q44 #167: BOLD-ly Go

Today on Quadrille Monday, Dee (WhimsyGizmo), prompts us to go boldly and boldly go with 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 “bold” or a form thererod in your poem.

On Arrival

Posted on December 13, 2022 by Raivenne

I
The one
Teetering
Perilously
On the precipice

Shamed
To call
What I knew
Before as best
For now I do know

That
Nothing
Not a thing
Could possibly
Be as candy sweet

As
Screaming
Loud His name
On arrival
Of la petite mort

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #166: I Like Candy

Yesterday on Quadrille Monday, Mish, got her sugar rush on at the bar and invited us to put a sweet spin to quadrille.

I also cheat a little in that my quadrille is also what I’ll call an Extended Arun. A nonce poem created by blogger GirlGriot, an Arun is a fifteen-line poem in three sets of five lines. Each set of five lines follows the same syllable structure: starting with one syllable and increasing by one syllable with each line. 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x. There are no other rhyme or structural requirements. Here I added an extra stanza to meet the 44 word Quadrille requirement.

Le petite mort, for those who may be unfamiliar with the term, literally translates to “the little death”. It is an expression in modern usage refers specifically to the sensation of post orgasmic afterglow that is as often likened to death.

Punching Age

Posted on September 20, 2022 by Raivenne

It started at one,

strong and sure

The promise of more

its lure

Birthday punches are a rite it’s true

But as they wore on, so did you

I took its weak finish

with a laughing smirk

Forgot I was 59

didn’t you, jerk?

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #160: Poems that Pack a Punch

Yesterday on Quadrille Monday, De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo, got a little punch drunk at the bar and invited us to punch out quadrille. Yesterday was my birthday. My bestfiend, not a misspell – who had the good sense to be born exactly a year later, and I were joking about the childhood silliness of delivering birthday wishes via punches on the arm. One punch-wish for each year, sometimes the token punches are delivered gently, sometimes not. Because I am blessed to age like fine wine, I do not look my years. Unless a boxer, I imagine most would begin to tire before reaching my current vintage and thus today’s silly quadrille.

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.

To Sleep

Posted on July 25, 2022 by Raivenne

Then you laid me down to sleep

In cotton coddled

For sweet dreams ‘til my eyes open

Thus days and nights wrap round the world

‘Till now I lay you down to sleep

In linens layered

But on your eyes I place a token

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #156

Tonight Mish hosts at the pub and wants us to “wrap” things up 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 “wrap”, or some form of the word, in your poem.

Amicable

Posted on July 12, 2022 by Raivenne

Faces
To sun
It’s over, done
We cheer and root
Grabbing all the Absolute

Long
We’ve waited
How we’ve anticipated
For this fine date
All the ways we’d celebrate

The
Finalized papers
Turn to vapors
All troubles we carried
Much better friends than married

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #155—Let’s Celebrate

Merril hosts at dVerse and wants us to “celebrate” in a quadrille.

Some couples do celebrate their divorce amicably.

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 “celebrate”, or some form of the word, in your poem.

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

Let’s…

Posted on June 13, 2022 by Raivenne

Sit back for a few and relax

Put our feet up with a most happy sigh

Enjoy these little moments for how quickly they fly

Laugh so hard it’s tears of joy we cry

Learn to love a quiet moment to the max

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Quadrille #154: Casting a Poetic Spell

Tonight at the pub Sanaa, aka adashofsunnya enchants or id that hexes us to spell out 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 “spell” or some form of the word in your poem. I do it acrostically.

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.

Raivenne-lations

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

Tag Archives: poetry forms