To pluck a flower
Is to stop its blooming,
dooming it to wilt.
A plucked flower
Is beautiful
in its dying,
so let me instead
build you a living garden
under spring showers.
Let the skies do the crying,
while we sustain our garden
with love undying.
Category: Haikus & Short Form Poetry
Love, Actually [Poem]
Distance is not only
a physical reality
but a feeling.
A thousand miles
can feel like no more
than the width of a paper
when hearts
are aligned.
The air in my chest
that breathes truth – all of it –
is yours
and I hope the air in yours
is mine
no matter how far we wander
or what distances
we must overcome.
Wise [Poem]
The Stunt Double [Poem]
You don’t know his name
By day
he wears another’s face
and stands in another’s shoes,
mimicking their stride,
hiding in their flesh
like a terrified child.
By night
he strips off his masks
and basks in the quiet,
wishing you knew his name.
Photo by Idin Ebrahimi on Unsplash
At DVerse, the prompt today is to use stand or any word that includes stand in it to write a quadrille.
Why [Haiku]
Warm weather whispers
with whimsical, weary words
Why
Why
Why
Why
Why
Photo by Tanjir Ahmed Chowdhury on Unsplash
Wounded Words [Poem]
The words bleed through the page like open wounds
sewn shut with scratch-marks,
dried into imitations of themselves.
I had to gouge the falseness
from the spaces between each letter
so when I wound a thick gauze
around my wounded words
they would heal.
Photo by Peter Chiykowski on Unsplash
At DVerse, the prompt today is to write a Quadrille: a poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title, that includes today’s prompt word, “wound” in the body of the poem. We can use the word “wound” or a form of the word – not a synonym for the word.
Blooming [Poem]
Like a seed
the thought arrived
on westward winds
blown from foreign fields
beyond
comprehension
It laid roots
and rainwater rivers
ran through
sprouting flowers
into sun-dashed days
Suddenly
it fled
on an eastern wind
leaving me
distracted
by the beauty of
its blooming
Photo by Barna Kovács on Unsplash
On DVerse, the Quadrille prompt asks that we write poem must be exactly 44 words and include the word seed.
Blinding [Poem]
Her glasses sit lightly
across the bridge of her nose,
reflecting early autumn sunlight
so that to my unaccustomed eyes
< She is blinding >
even after the sunlight recedes
and I close my eyes to sunset hues,
sun-spots bleed deep blue across my vision
in the shape of her name.
Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash
On DVerse this Tuesday, the challenge is to write a poem about bridges OR write a Puente (Spanish for “bridge”), which is a poem that uses a line with a tilde (~) to connect two stanzas.
The River [Haiku]
More Than A Stranger [Poem]
When you
visit a new city,
treat it
like home.
Hold it tenderly
and love
all of its
rough edges.
Roam outside
of the usual
tourist traps
and turn
the worn pages
of each
passing street.
Find hidden places
and turn down
chance
side-streets
without warning.
Walk briskly up
escalator
steps.
Glare at those
who
do not.
Grumble at tourists.
Wish you had stayed home.
Experience
the city
as more
than a stranger.
Photo by Kamil Kalkan on Unsplash
Seamus O'Shaughnessy, Jr. 