These conversations of ours
It feels like you are forever in my presence
moreso than when you walked the earth
So agreeable, and still with the jokes
Don’t you have somewhere else to be?
What type of grieving is this?
– these conversations of ours
Pat
8/08/2022
For dVerse Poets Pub where the host, De, gives the word Type to be used in a quadrille (a 44 word poem created at dVerse). To participate or just read, go here
Another one! We are, yet again, undone. The only thing that seems to come out of these tragedies are the usual talking heads pretentiously wallowing in their fifteen minutes of fame.
The hands deep in their pockets also move the trap between their beady little eyes as they mouth platitudes and lamentations in the form of thoughts and prayers. All of which has become white noise because power takes precedent.
So, we continue to live under sinister skies raining death with nowhere to hide. Hoards of lost souls that will never again see morning. They will never again set eyes on arcs of grass bejeweled by dew reflecting twilight.
It is up to us to erase the platitudes and become a part of the solution. The way we do this is with our vote! These are the things they don’t tell us often enough.
Vote!
Pat
6/06/2022
For dVerse Poets Pub being hosted by Msjadeli where the topic is “How many will it take” as it relates to gun violence and mass shootings. To participate or just read go here.
Last evening while the setting sun was writing its own story cantankerous clouds to the right were leaving deep smudges in the evening skies.
The bird songs outside my window were unrelenting, piercing the roar of the harsh spring winds. Even the delicate cherry blossoms are standing up to this latest rage.
It seems we are all to discover what we are made of. In the end, we are all just holding on.
the ire of spring
that will not be placated –
belligerent storms
Pat
4/03/22
For Haibun Monday over at dVerse who is hosting with a theme of “Cherry Blossoms”. To view other entries go here
Also linking to Tanka Tuesday over at Colleen where the prompt is to take a photo from your day and write a poem in relation to it. To see other entries go here
I never could see my life without him
But there stood this broken trust
Shoving past all that I had come to know would only lead to regrets piled atop regrets –
never again feeling safe
As great as this love was
I knew me
It would not end well
So, I let it go in the most awful way
Never to see, or speak to him for ever
Time is not always the healer
she purports to be
Years later when we could again speak
He asked.
I explained.
That was not about you, I said.
That was about keeping that thread I was hanging by intact.
Pat R
6/22/21
Isn’t it pretty to think so.
–The Sun Also Rises (1926). Ernest Hemingway
Over at dVerse we are to write a poem based on a chosen quote from Hemingways work. I chose the above.
Linking to dVerse Poets Pub where Lisa is hosting Poetics -“One true sentence” . To read other entries go here
Plumes of smoke follow her
swirling as she moves from room to room
“Smudging mean spirits”, she explains
As she moves about, there were whispered words escaping her lips. His young mind wonders,
“Who is she talking to?”
He’d best be well behaved today.
Pat
6/15/21
For dVerse Piers Pub where Mish is hosting and the word to be included is “Smudge”. It is Quadrille Monday. To join or read go here.
I’m not remembering
what planted the seed
Maybe it was the repetition,
Everything three times
The bare bones of the vocabulary
was odd
Always seem to be searching trying to hang onto thoughts in flight
No one dared put words to such unsettling thoughts
Pat
5/04/21
At dVerse Poets Pub Merril is hosting Quadrille night, we’re using “seed” in a poem.
It is especially windy today, and a bit cold. It feels like a leftover winter day. The pear tree is up in arms. Limbs are being tossed about and there are blossoms everywhere. They are on the car, the steps, the yard next door, the sidewalk and the short japanese maple. It was weird seeing falling blossoms perch on the maple’s leaves, if only for a moment.
The toddler next door is in his front yard with his grandmother. I pause to watch him from the porch as I wave hello to the grandmother. Why are they even outside on a day like this, I wonder. Cabin fever perhaps.
He is fascinated and is trying to catch blossoms in midair. Of course, he never really catches any. Yet, at the present moment, he is very much in the present and there is fun to be had.
spring wind cuts a path
carpet of pear blossoms with
vanishing footprints..
Pat
4/26/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where Frank is hosting and the prompt is… ” the present moment”. To join in or just read go here
Stomping through puddles
in my Sunday best
Sailing paper boats
in rain puddles.
Lessons on the smell of rain
“Smell that?”, she’d ask.
When the first plopping raindrops
hit parched soil.
Time taken for the little things,
never a bother
to my warrior mother.
Pat
4/19/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where De is hosting and the prompt is “Bother”. To participate or to just read go here.
I keep you
deep in my heart
you waltzed in
curled up
and never left
ever so often
I find myself hiding you
in my poetry
yes – I do keep you
deep in my heart
Pat
4/08/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where Grace is hosting and the prompt is body parts as metaphors To read or join in go here
knowing looks, whispers
outright aggression
due only to the skin one is in
this norm sewn into our fabric
not swiftly abandoned
cannot withstand hard looks
does this not gnaw
at every soul?
this thing, that is undoing us,
will it ever be excised?
Pat
3/08/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where Sarah is hosting and the prompt is “Swift” on quadrille night ( a 44 word poem).
thoughts and entanglements 
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