house built in 1910
posting inn
across the street
blocks away from
Indian mounds
saw moccasin foot
exiting from basement
another summer afternoon
resting in bedroom
family voices drift
up servants staircase
footsteps ghosting
stop at my door
paralyzed call out
who’s there
silence
The d’Verse prompt this week is ghost. These are true stories that happened to me when I was in my early teens. There were at least two ghosts in our house, but as far as I know, I was the only one to see and hear them.
In the area of Florida where I live, the American Robins have returned from further south on the peninsula. They gather in flocks of hundreds, sometimes thousands and move north as the weather warms. In the early morning and late afternoon one such flock drinks at our birdbath. Most years they roost for a day, this year, they’ve been here three already.
each dawn clear or clouds
orange breasts purpose puffed
slaking thirst rotated turns
open-beaked territorial chirps
even spaced along bath rim
water splashed everywhere
at sixes and sevens of the clock
when they leave to feed
cardinals doves and jays
drink in peaceful quiet
when paranoia is the new
coin of the realm
when oversight is corrupt
numbered accounts
when divide and conquer
is now official
all the hats in the
world won’t keep
out the hate only
eyes and words can
turn back the absurd
conscienceless blather
slithers destructively, long
after echoes fade, a comet’s tail
seared by innuendo and speculation,
stark vacuum, former friendships,
a faint whisper of condemnation,
enough to capsize years of robust
relations, guerilla cyber warfare
for hearts and minds, live broadcasts
from local high school hallways
Quadrille prompt for d’Verse. Whisper: ORIGIN Old English ‘hwisprian’, of Germanic origin; related to German ‘wispeln’, from the imitative base of whistle.
partial circle – a curl begets promises
possibilities of completion – tantalizing
perfection – glimpses by the shore – each
wave cresting – harmonious harbinger
of change – feet washed by memories
curl into being – mixed with ashes
in salty foam – random thoughts curl
life loops back – sea swallows circle
The d’Verse prompt is curl. ORIGIN late Middle English: from obsolete crulle ‘curly,’ from Middle Dutch ‘krul’.
an impressive moniker for gangsters
a rite of passage for roughnecks
and trainee chefs
happy hour retirees toast
knee surgeries and hip replacements
athletes swap boasts of past glory
those of us with mental scars
well…
freak is about the kindest thing I’ve heard
lofty ideals, less breath for all
echoes of past -isms elicit
mocking denunciations, paid-off politics
inclusiveness surrounded by barbed wire
squeezed out, breath-less
consumers pretend to give thanks,
stash hopes under bed, display
fears in colored strings
lights flash keep-away
huddled masses breathe last
ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Latin elicit- ‘drawn out by trickery or magic,’ from the verb elicere, from e- (variant of ex-)‘out’ + lacere ‘entice, deceive.’
The Daily Post prompt
The d’Verse Poetry prompt in Quadrille form of 44-words.
we
obey
mindless dance
captivated
puppets cued by fancy advertising
glossy pages attractive perfection
airbrushed flawless
cue despair
body
plump
we
follow
random cues
studio lights
yammering prophets seek higher ratings
live feed draws those left without any hope
sappy soundtrack
violin
music
cued
The d’Verse prompt is Cue over at the Poetry Pub where the pool tables are hot and the drinks cold.
Author’s note: This quadrille is written as a Double-Double Tetractys: 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 4, 3, 2, 1 with a total of 80 syllables.
every month
round about the end
or near enough
I, being ambitious rearrange my mind
windows open for fresh air
rummage dusty corners
toss the unidentifiable
check the locks
print labels for drawers
how did that get in there?
or
my personal favorite
huh?
There Are More Poets than Stars in the Firmament 