Category Archives: dVerse poems

purple tigers in curious snow 

it’s only once (maybe twice) in a blue moon that we know what we’re doing. we of the viole(n)t fingers. we of the ivory page. we scrape our inky stripes and cage our own roared voices into petaled phrase in hopes of taming heart. we start withthorn and scratch our … Continue reading

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RoofDragon

Watch her land and stand watch. Catch her spare spangled scales as they fall. Hear her talons scritch, the roared hitch in her song.  She’ll cover you in veiny wingsthe smoky ink of starry breaththe embered scent of sky. She’ll warm you, warn you. Teach you … Continue reading

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Refrain 

Paint the sky a hue that you have never seen. Paint a cave and sit with your own darkness. Paint a wave and ride it to the sun.  Paint with your fingers, toes. Nose. Suppose your body is a brush.                                     Hush. Paint the silence.  … Continue reading

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paprika poem 

spring flings in; we twirl and spin between the limbs and dance our -selves silly. the sky’s addicting.  maybe we’re high on dandelion fluff. maybe we’ve achoo’d our way to sun.  whatever the reason,we’ve decided spicy’s just fine for any scribbledseason.  :: It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and … Continue reading

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when we all can falling-star again

, I don’t wanna pan(dem)ic no more                     (no more) so        (please) just blue me a kiss bramble me a storm verb me a poem, then sky me … Continue reading

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a clean slate, with your own face on

, you find yourself indigo -clad and clapping like thunder, a blur of turquoise tutu and treehouse battle scars. the earth underfoot is a song, a sigh, a silence. the sky’s got both wings and teeth, a dragon -fly in … Continue reading

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searching for color in a desert world

this is no garden place, these terra cotta hills and mountain face. she aches for blue beyond this sky, some rainbow’d why. but still she finds a slip of pink to fuel her ink; a bramble of crimson, that golden … Continue reading

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a wish, a rant, a roar

.. a small stirring in the slow hollows of her bones. a hallowed breath of broken wayward shaken sky. a sigh. a song. the long long stretch of day. a freckled thought that says she is ungrowing. a fraction caught … Continue reading

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Scribbling in the Margins of a Day Already Done

{a Golden Shovel poem}   The sun has risen once again, and I am full of spin and the too-tried must -y scent of syllables with not enough to say. Today, there’s nothing like the quiet I’m keeping, held here … Continue reading

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Magic Beans

{Pandora Prays} I have traded stalks and stockings for bright boxes that open if you twist and turn and yearn just right. You call me sister, daughter, queen, nick my name for your want, your disaster, your separation from stars; … Continue reading

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