September Evening #DVersePoetic

Summer has left the door outside open,

is drinking mulled wine on the patio,

leaving petals by her feet one by one.

Too focused on the sun’s slow set to notice

exchanging looks and Night’s arrival

its cloak across its shoulders slipping,

gold stars sewn like seeds on soil,

for Summer’s goose-pricked shoulders

brass tanned and shivering.


There were a few options for last night’s DVerse Poets ‘Poetics’ Prompt. I chose to write a poem by taking one of the lines provided (Summer is leaving too exchanging its gold for brass) and using each word as the starting word for each line of my own poem. The last two lines were the trickiest to finalise, but after a bit of playing around I managed to come up with a piece that I was happy enough to post.

Rain Will Not Be Left Out In The Cold

She brings it in with her,

the rain,

clung to the tip of her nose

and through her hair

so it’s blacker than night.

 

Strips out of her waterproofs

till she has shape.

Colour,

risen high in her cheeks,

on the knuckles of her hands.

 

Reveals the desperation of it,

crept through

zips and openings.

Slid a caress down her neck

till she bears a collar of its touch.

 

Trails it deeper into the kitchen,

Siren kettle

a song to sodden socked feet,

printing a vanishing trail

across the tiles.

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What Power There Is In A Name

When I thought about it

there was no memory of your name

being slipped to me.

Just the taste of it on my tongue

and a certainty for the syllables

chanted into my pillowcase

when my head found home

and I wished you there.

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I had to delay getting across to the pub tonight, as I was taking part in another poetry event with some local poets from my neck of the woods. It was done through Zoom and streamed live to Facebook (not without hiccups). I’ve included the link below for anyone interested. It might be fun to try and set up a dVerse zoom night perhaps? I start reading around the 51 minute mark, however the video is a bit choppy and my inability to listen to myself without cringing, means I’m not 100% on what the audio is like.

 

 

Is This Deity A Goddess Or Witch?

I tried swearing at the garden pond,

to see if I could goad a water witch

into dredging herself up at at ’em

with enough pissed off vengeance

to take at least one body down.

I wasn’t decided on who I wanted,

squealing in her webbed, wet grip.

Half-thought if she came I’d go,

grab her right back with both hands,

test to see if she tasted stagnant,

or like spring water breaking free

after centuries underground.

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Find A Room, Make Yourself At Home

All corridors run back to you,
though they say loss gets less
the longer you let it sit.
And you’ve been sitting here,
in this hollow you left for a while now
Just a slither of yourself
with no new words to say
that might explain this empty.
And barricades don’t keep
the door from banging open,
every time a storm
or gentle breeze blows in.
It only takes a name,
or a memory,
to raise your shade.
So I given up airing out this room
with all your secrets.
Leave another hole in the wall
the same shape as my fist,
pretend I haven’t
when the moments leaves.
Re-watch you walk in
sit down
pick up your drink.
Re-watch you pick up your drink.

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