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Let Me Burst Your Bubble

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what you don’t know

will hurt you anyways

because truth

is the only reality

the liar knows the truth

therefore the truth exists

it is never hidden

you carry on without knowing

but you are living within a lie

and that is pain….un-felt

a secret is a perspective

it’s an illusion, my friend

 

 

 

Merril is hosting Poetics this week and she has asked us to write about secrets.

dVerse Poets Pub

 

 

She Wondered

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“Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.”

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carol

 

 

 

and to wonder is everything

like water to the earth

nourishing you, levitating you

beyond what “is”

high above cinders of the past

into worlds where stars pop

as you poke at the sky

clouds sashay in colours you’ve

never seen but somehow

you know well

spirit animals appear

swirling, embracing

speaking your truth

joy is the flight path

of dandelion fuzz

the gleam of dragonfly wings

sorrows, unknown

slip deep into sunsets

dawn becomes another gift

another day to wonder

 

 

So happy to be hosting this week’s Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub, where we are using the “last lines” of books to spark our poetic muse. You are welcome to join us at 3 p.m. EST.

Image credit: pixabay.com

This World

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This world is a heart
fed from the nuzzle of a mother’s breast.
Its murmur is a father’s gentle song,
one whose arms reach out before a fallen
tear can bury itself in the sand.

Its arteries are our highways, as
opaque as they are to the earth beneath,
without them, are we not pigeons without wings,
moths without a moon?

The blood is love. But blood isn’t love.
No, if we take in one as our own,
it does the same. The world took us in
so long ago.

 

Join us at dVerse Poets Pub as we imagine our own world.

The sky’s the limit..or is it? It’s my pleasure to be hosting this week’s Poetics.

Doors open at 3 p.m.

Image: pixabay.com

Euphony

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the world is in our hands

is it not a gift?

a blank sheet

to compose symphonies

of grace,

one cosmic chorus

born of our own untainted hearts?

let us not be mute

but join in songs of light

when evil seeps

through cracks

 

 

A quadrille for dVerse Poets Pub.

De has given us the word “crack” to incorporate into our 44 word poems. Join us!

Image credit: pixabay.com

 

 

Southwest

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you are my green chile

kokopelli dream

soft sound of hiking boots

tapping on sandstone

my sun, uninterrupted

blessing mesas

the aqua blue of desert skies

set against canyons calling

in sacred language of silence

scents of cedar, earth and peace

you reset me

 

 

 

44 words is a quadrille, our original poetry form at

dVerse Poet’s Pub.

Merril is our host and the given word is “set”. Feel free to join in.

Microgravity

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-Dandelion – Beverly Dyer

 

time slips deep

into season’s end

autumn spins tales to me

       you

spin tales to me

we are seeds

catapulting

through the cosmos

at the speed of lies

majestically reckless

spinning further and further

from the light

      spinning further and further

from the truth

         spinning further

     and further….

 

 

For “Poetics” at dVerse Poets Pub, I am pleased to present the work of

Beverly Dyer

Join us in a collaboration of art and poetry!

Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.

Image: Etsy.com “Dandelion” by Beverly Dyer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Hush

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It’s the space between steps

hollow of waves curling

gleam of seagull’s wings

 

  the slow

       tranquil

            ex

             hale

                  slipping off lips

 

as clouds collage in peach

and magenta

 

It’s the wander

without map or path

where trees speak in tongues

of nature lover’s dreams

 

 

A Quadrille for

dVerse Poet’s Pub

 Lillian has offered us “tranquility”

to include in our 44 word poems.

You can join in too!