Tag: dVerse

  • “Who Am I?” -a #haibun

    I am Chuang Chou dreaming he is a butterfly. I am the butterfly dreaming he is Chuang Chou. I am the dream of Chuang Chou and butterfly being each other. I am the complement between them. I am the Way you can’t go, the Name you can’t say. I am the unnamed origin of Heaven…

  • This Filial Contemplation: a #haibun

    My son squats atop the rocky outcrop in Kakiat park. He gazes toward the distant New York City skyline. Even after ten years, he maintains a comfortable “frog” posture that his second-grade teacher warned us about. He says nothing. I hold my tongue in deference. I remember those moments when I, too, savored silence. As…

  • Meditation in Blue: a #Quadrille #Gembun #sequence

    Blues riff on a cocktail napkin a single tear They want my blue eyes. If they only knew … clear sky rustling leaves summer wind The talk of a coming “Blue Tsunami…” As if. all the calm of the ocean politics Traveling these blue ways … for dVerse Poets’ Quadrille #107 – Blue Monday (pubtended by…

  • Encountering Two Snakes: my latest @ImageCurve #haibun

    The orange trail ascends Halfway Mountain. Yellow and brown elm leaves blanket the flanks of the path. As I say something to Mira, I jump with a start. Inches away, a black rat snake lies still. A sight surpassed only by the timber rattler we encounter off the Pine Meadow trail. rattling the woods suddenly…

  • Atlanta, June 12, 2020

    two shell casings another Black man’s back bullet-struck bleeding wounds left untreated a kick, then two planted feet two minutes blood blending with the dark Another name to the list while protestors fill the streets A chalk outline left behind I hosting MTB this week over at dVerse Poets today, where we explore Imagism. The…

  • That Black Trench Coat: an .@ImageCurve #haibun

    The late 1910s. Grandpa Vuolo wore it on those cold days when he looked for work. It was black wool, fine as camel hair, with a raised collar and large button; the coat easily reached his knees. It also had a curious angle pocket near the left collar. Many days he would brush the falling…

  • Off the Leash: A #Quadrille #TankaProse

    Cry ‘Havoc,’ and let slip the dogs of war Marc Antony, “Julius Caesar,” Act 3, Scene 1, line 273 Officer Derek Chauvin Kills George Floyd. Why? When will Black Lives matter? kneeling unleashs a nation eight minutes to snuff out a life, then six days demanding justice for dVerse Poets’ Quadrille #105: Cry Havoc and…

  • Stanza del Silenzio: a #haibun

    “But you, when you pray, go into your inner room…” Mt 6:6 “Silence is the first language of God”, Saint John of the Cross once said. Perhaps that’s why sitting in silence always attraced me. From a pre-school age boy, spinning the wheels of his upside-down tricycle, to a pubescent boy, sitting cross-legged on a…