dVerse – Facing the Wall – NaPoWriMo: April 30 2014

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

A wall erected when we are born
Distinguishes who we really are
The visions that dance within our heads
Defining us from all the rest.

I walk upon pathways all my days
My thoughts and feelings here with me,
A vision of what reality can be.
Here behind my garden wall.

Smiling I walk along a road
A song plays here inside my soul,
I look at people as they pass by …
Thinking my song has touched them too.

A feeling swells like ocean waves
Inside my breast as I pass my day
I need a pen or my camera
To bring sensations into the world.

Each one of us has a special view,
Of what the world is really like
Yet, no one’s wrong, no one’s right
Each is just a facet bright…

The brilliant diamond we call life
Hidden inside our souls and minds
Behind our wall that separates …
Yet, unites us in our common state.

This poem, a unrhymed quatrain, was written for dVerse Poet’s Pub which posed a question to contemplate, I think it would be worth your while to read the post, even if you don’t write poetry.Then perhaps you can tell me what you think of “The Wall”.

This is my last entry for NaPoWriMo!


The Robin – dVerse

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe sky seemed to want to fall,
The rain did all last night,
And when I finally arose from bed …
Grey clouds filled up the world.

Not a vision I wanted, no,
On this April day of spring …
Seemed closer to September,
Autumn if anything.

I poured a cup of coffee,
The modem was slow today …
Read some writer’s poems,
Just to begin my day.

Though raining quite heavily,
The birds were all a twitter …
Gossips exchanging news
On the roofs and the antennas.

Then on my loggia I heard him,
His chirping, some sharp tweets …
Yes, there upon the railing stood,
The Robin and how he sang so sweet.

This Robin has come to visit,
Every morning of this past week …
But I could never catch him,
In a photograph.

As soon as I approach the door,
With my camera at the ready,
He flits off into the sky …
Coming back, when it’s too late.

So slowly I turned round,
I was sitting at my computer…
Put on my zoom and focused him,
Though I knew the shot would be blurry.

This is my little friend, Robin …
He visits every morning,
He makes me smile on the darkest days
With his merry melody.


Written for dVerse : Open Link Night April 2014

Nowhere I want to be… (Free Verse)


Trudging down a road
crunching on the gravel
one foot before another
going I know not where …

I’m concentrating now
in going nowhere at all
just trudging down a road
with no goal inside my mind …

If I should arrive somewhere
it would be just by accident
a wayward turn might take me there
or maybe somewhere else …

Today’s a weary day, I think
I’ve no place I want to be
no words I want to write
no faces I wish to see …

So, I’ll go trudging down a road
wandering inside my world
there, listening to the sound
of gravel crunching underfoot.


I’ve written this as an exercise to stimulate my muse but trying to write for dVerse – Meeting the Bar ~ Rhythm and Blank Verse

Kenning Trials – dVerse


The werewolf-moon
shone bright that night
and quickened therefore
her blood
with romantic thoughts
of sexy-rides
with her lover and yet more …
The crystal-light
lit up the night
lit up her soul and more …
there in the land
of moon-tales told
are stories
of love and horror too …
when did the moon
become love-bane
when did we change
our love to fear?
For we’ve always seen
love-moon’s full bliss
as a call
to wolfish-men.
Out came the werewolf-moon
that night
and then the transformation …
for  mild-mannered
loving creature
a ravishing love-machine.
Oh fancy that
myths always spoke
of this strange metamorphosis …
from ancient Greece
to London-wolves
lycanthropy’s been known …
ancient warrior-rites
changed into
in the middle ages
ah, magic-moon
the tales you’ve weaved
mixed up
with love-tales
and still we speak
of the same haunty moon.

For Kennings – dVerse – a first trial to be continued at a later date, I hope.

Evolving Poetics – Free Verse


Evolving Poetics

A seed fell into this old clay pot,
Dropped without much care or thought,
And began to sprout a flower one day
Growing slowly with each new rhyme.

Words formed in harmony and rhyme,
Express those thoughts I’d never written.
Yet call me poet, that’s hard for me,
Though I write poetry everyday.

Haiku, tanka or a rondolette,
Iambe and meter and all the rest,
Some tools I use to create my stories …
Thanks to a seed dropped here by chance.

And now as I study William Blake
I read some Frost, Kerouac or Lee Masters
Listen to Simon and Garfunkel with a new ear
I  write my verse of life and the early morning dew.

To Sahm and Papi Z you drunken poets,
For your prompts and encouragement,
I dedicate this brief early morning poem …
For the seed you planted in my mind.


I began writing poetry on a regular basis last year, about this time, thanks to We Drink Because We’re Poets.  They were in full swing on a poem a day event, and I just started writing to their prompts and found that I not only could but that I enjoyed it immensely! The month ended, I looked for more prompts, wrote without prompts, looked into forms, discovered Japanese poetry.  I write because I can, because I have to, because I like to, maybe not like Blake, Kerouac or Frost…just like me, saying whatever comes to mind.

dVerse Poetics Poetically Evolving created the prompt that inspired this verse..many thanks!  Ooops..missed the linky by 40 minutes!

The Writer – Free Verse


What does this writer really see,
looking upon the field of life’s mystery,
she sees a world of dark death for sure,
yet when she writes, the words unfold,
into stories of hope and happiness!

She’d love to write dark gloomy tales
of fright and fear in misty vales
and though the story begins quite fell,
a twist inside the story grows
and humor replaces horror!

She smiles upon a somber world,
transforming it into stories swirled
with, if not sugar, at least delight,
finding a moral or a surprise,
ruining a perfectly lovely murder trial!

She’s known sadness, had her woes,
it’s not that she doesn’t really know
what drama and hurt feels like inside,
yet, all her life has long been spent
living without expressing sad laments.

If you meet her walking down the street
she’ll greet you with a chipper tweet.
Sympathize with you for your loss.
Listen to your troubles and your moans,
And try to make you smile.

She’s seen war, crime and destruction
and put them into little constructions
of other worlds that have no weight
and so she walks in a pink mist world
she’s worked very hard to create.

There she stands at sixty-two
white haired and a little flabby too
creating worlds and fantasies,
poems, fables or mysteries
in a paradox of fluffy joyful delight.

Contemplaing a world without weight
from her wu-wei point of view
makes it really hard for her to see
the road to writing bloody murder mysteries
so she ends up writing haiku!


This is the prompt from Meeting The Bar: Character Matters at dVerse Poet’s Pub:

“What I would like you to do today is to write a poem and focus on developing at least one character within your verse. The verse can be a just about that person, or they can be just and ‘actor’ in a greater situation. Do make sure that you working on making that one character come alive for the reader.”

The Cherries – Fabulist dVerse!

The Cherries

Once upon a time, Kitsune was out walking on a warm late spring day.  She came upon a beautiful cherry tree.  Its blossoms were now transformed into succulent red fruit, that hung invitingly all about it but just beyond reach.

Kitsune jumped up trying to get some of those succulent cherries.  But, alas, they were just too high.  She grabbed a big stick and try to knock some down, but they refused to collaborate and seemed to just laugh a bright red laugh at her failure.

Terrible Inugami came stalking down the road looking for a victim to murder.  Kitsune, was not one to run away in the face of adversity and she was also very very brave and intelligent.  She sat down on a rock and pretended to cry.

“What’s wrong with you Kitsune?” growled Ingumi.

“Ah…a terrible thing has happened!  Do you not see how this tree is dripping with blood?”

“That doesn’t look like blood to me.  The drops are too round and besides they seem to be attached one to another.  I think this must be some sort of fruit!”

“Oh…this is due to an enchantment.  But this is my friend Kodama…alas who’s suffered a great wrong.  There is only one way to free the Kodama from this tree…I must eat that fruit.  Alas, though, it is too high for me!”

“Too bad I did not come along when this person was cruelly transforming Kodama into a tree!  I would have torn him limb from limb…but now, there’s nothing I can do!”

“Can’t you get some of that fruit down for me so that I may try to save Kodama?” she said fawning “You are truly so very tall and strong!”

Inugami was really very big and proud too…he was also very vicious but one of  Kitsune’s powers was the power of persuasion!  So she used her magic voice and Inugami felt well disposed towards her and decided to try to help her “save” Kodama.

Kodama was really hidden inside the cherry tree, though neither of them knew this and so when Inugami pulled off some of the cherries and gave them to Kitsune, Kodama though he’d have some fun scaring them!

Kitsune had just popped the first cherries into her mouth when Kodama began to moan and wail!

Inugami looked perplexed and Kitsune nearly choked!

“Who do you think you are Inugami, stealing my young right off my branches like this!” Kodama said.

“Ah!  Kitsune said that she had to eat your blood so that you could be transformed back into your original form!”

“Kitsune…you’re up to your tricks again!  You wanted to eat my fruit so you brought this ignorant dog to help you!”

“Eh no!  Who are you to call me an ignorant dog!  And you Kitsune, what do you have to say about this?”

“Ah…my poor Kodama.  You’ve been transformed into a tree and from what I can see, a very bad mannered tree at that!  You should be thanking Inugami and I for trying to help you!  But if that’s how you’re going to act…well we’ll just go away and leave you to your sort!”

So cunningly hiding the cherries Kitsune jauntily raised her bushy red tail and off she went towards the woods.  Inugami growled at Kodama and said:

“Now you will remain a tree for all of your existence!” and went on his way along the dusty path looking for a victim to murder.

Kodama just laughed his rustling laugh, that sounded like wind in the leaves.  He was really very happy that Kitsune was able to get some cherries.  Now she would take the fruit far away and new cherry trees would grow up somewhere in the bright sunshine far away!

Moral of the fable: I really couldn’t say what the moral is…any suggestions?  Courtesy is the best policy…could be one but Kodama get’s what he wants by being discourteous!  What can I say…I’ll never be an Aesop!


My story is an adaptation from The Fox and the Grapes is one of the traditional Aesop’s fables.  The characters I pulled out of internet: Kitsune the Japanese fox kami, Inugami a dog kami, sort of a voodoo spirit used to murder or to kidnap one’s enemies and Kodama a spirit that lives in a tree.  Of course, Kitsune isn’t an ordinary fox, so she got to eat her cherries unlike Aesop’s Fox who wasn’t able to get any grapes and so declared that he didn’t want them anyway, because they were probably sour!


So for today’s dVerse challenge (written by who says: I would like you to either:

    • take an existing fable and create a poem out of it, maybe moving the anthropomorphism back to real humans.
    • or, tell your own fable in the form of your preference. I think a world of foxes, lions and scorpions still exists, and can be used to create a poem.
    • or simply rewrite you fable of choice in poetic words, many of the fables were actually poems to start with so you are in great company with the original fabulist.

And if you use a fable and not just the characters, please include a reference to that fable. I would love to learn how your world of fables look like.

    • Write a poem and post it to your webpage.
    • Enter a link directly to your poem and your name by clicking Mr Linky below
    • There you will find links to other poets, and more will join
    • Read and comment on other poet’s work, we all go here to have our poems read
    • Promote your site and poetry you like on social media of your choice
    • Promote your site and poetry you like on social media of your choice

Have a great Sunday!

Just a Note – February 10, 2014

Hello World!


I know, I haven’t been writing my Just a Note lately…actually I haven’t been doing a lot of my regular posts…I’m a little blue I think….

Here is sunny Italy we’ve been having a bit of wet weather…two weeks of wet weather in fact and that has more or less kept me at home.  I’d usually go walking rain or shine, but I’ve had a bit of bad weather myself and so it has been the better part of wisdom not to go out.  My muse hasn’t been happy with this decision.

I’ve been doing a lot of prompts to keep the juices flowing.  Last week I wrote for Trifecta, Speakeasy, dVerse, Friday Fictioneers, Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, Ligo Haibun, Poet’s CornerHaibun Thinking and Sunday Photo Fiction.  Think I’ve got them all down, might have missed someone, I’m not sure.  The links will take you directly to the prompt sites.

Reading other people’s blogs has really become a mess, as I was saying to Charles Yallowitz yesterday.  I’m trying to try with the daily digests…at least the posts are all together and it’s easier to follow them.  The reader is the pits lately.  I often  have the problem of having the same post about 20 or more times and nothing else.  Of course, doing the prompts, one should also read the posts of fellow participants.  That can be rather interesting actually as many posts from Blogger which I wouldn’t normally read.

I think that I’ve got the Mid-Winter Blues..probably a little left over energy depletion due to the flu I had and the vitamin and mineral deficiency that my doctor discovered.  I’ve also got a thyroid problem…which we’re working on.

Besides all that, many of the people I’ve been blogging with over the last few months have gone awol.  Poof all of a sudden they’re just not around to read.  I’ve found this pretty depressing.  Of course, I suppose one has to get used to that sort of thing.  There have been many over the last year who have been really prolific and there was a nice feeling and then they just stopped writing.  Maybe they opened a blog somewhere else.  Maybe they just got bored with writing.  Or just simply moved on… Who knows.

Anyway.  I’m hoping to get my act together and start writing again on the 13th Floor.  I haven’t been doing the Pixelventures’ Close-up, which I think I’ll have to rethink before retaking that one up.  I’m happy to say that I do try write for Poet’s Corner at least once a week.  Perhaps I’ll just choose a couple of prompts to write for, it may be less dispersive.

As I was saying to Oliana from Traces of Soul, whilst talking about her fantastic post,  I think I too need a project.  Maybe a series of children stories and poetry.  I should perhaps start deciding to collect my work from last year in some sort of an anthology,  see if I can’t come up with a pamphlet or two of poetry…one for the Japanese poetry, one for the other genre.

Well…that’s more or less all I’ve got to say this week.  Bless you all and have a good time.

Ciao!  Bastet.

The Muse – Sketchbook Poetry

The Muse

all night the poet talks to me
waking me up sometimes at 3
telling me tales I can’t remember
rhymes that just may never be

but in the morn
some words remain
they play hide and seek
throughout the day
within my brain
brief images that just pop up
full bown
without a reason
to connect with with me

so I’ll think: round and round
of a sound, a bit of music, a song
a picture or perhaps a scene
that seems so real – like memory…

until I get behind the keyboard
and the words come flowing down
I feel I’m being hounded
by some urgency
without reason or purpose
to be found.
Inside my brain there lives a poet
A muse a master or a clown
and as the things I see go past him
he puts them into prose or rhyme§

Good or Bad?
bah…whether good or bad’s
not my job to tell…
don’t mind me, I’m just
the person who writes things down


dVerse Poet’s Pub – Sketchbook