Let the breeze billow the curtains,
Let the light and warmth favour us,
Let the joy tickle our bare skin.
We may doubt this glorious constant,
But nature’s life cycle, renewing possibilities, revisiting brief serenity,
Repeats until we are no more. Then repeats again.
If I did ever have him, then I do desperately miss him.
One person always by my side,
Whether I was right, or whether I was left,
Standing in the sun’s rays, or hiding from the raindrops,
He was here (yes, I mean there) to say
I understand, I understand you… I, you.
Many’s the night you’ve walked these same miles, without ever lifting from your chair.
Dreams like loosed cobblestones, a path crumbling underneath your worn, hobo shoes.
Brief solace sometimes sought, diversions for your wearied soul.
Slippery side streets and names you no longer remember.
This week, dVerse Poets provided the Quadrille (44 words) prompt word: cobble.
We huddle cuddle close in the peeling-paint-framed-storefront,
Sheltered briefly, only briefly, from the sideways stares of passersby.
Safe from showers, drip drip rain that stains the sidewalk,
And washes away the pastel chalky hopscotch
We drew to decorate our unfeathered nest.
44 words for this week’s d’Verse prompt: rain.
Photo taken by Reza Shayestehpour.
Harold lives contentedly, his neighbors not included.
He sees their dreams of grandeur, grandly self-deluded.
Locals squirm and shiver, don’t know how to dress amid the general squalor.
Harold Haberdasher goes to work, grabs stumbling apple jacks by the collar,
Turns them into genuine gentlemen
Even gentle Benjamin
With his quirky regimen
Of gritty diner coffee and high voltage special Ks,
His lucky charms of power for surviving lightless days.
Crack sidewalk traffic staggers, this street life ain’t for kids
It’s iron-taste-in-the-mouth nonexistence on these back alley skids.
Lillian at dVerse Poets Pub asked for some brand name noodling. My inspiration was Special K which as most of you will know is street language for the horrible drug Ketamine. I mixed up the rhyme scheme to match the mixed up world of the setting.
He didn’t glance back before falling forward
Into the still unknown of shocking cobalt.
No one there to fuss or hold him
No one to cry out at just the right moment
Into the midnight afternoon breeze –
For those he’d loved always, eventually
Let go of his hand.
Left him stranded.
And when he realized this, his fate
He’d grieved. Hardened.
Become impenetrable stone.
Then (against even the quirkiest laws of nature)
Frozen to fragile ice, cracked, shattered.
If not submerged within this serene, sharp sapphire
Where else was he meant to be?
Written for dVerse, an ekphrastic poem responding to a work of art. Here that work is a beautifully complex, yet simple, evocative painting by Fay Collins
Zippo snaps, sparks the flame,
Essential for this daily tinder routine.
Zig zags contain dusty, seedy remains of
His birthday stash from Lex and Jean.
Dad’s lighter, used over years
Engraving’s worn off and disappeared.
What a crazy old ride from cigar to spliff.
Photo by Evan Phillip on Unsplash
Written for this week’s quadrille prompt on d’Verse: use some form of the word ‘zip’.