Thursday, February 22, 2018

The awakening

a voice inside your head
                  be still 

you dab
     clouds of cotton on your       spindled finger
you sleep
     on nest of tangled ferns        & castle of sorrows
you dream
     of that magical kiss under     ocean of stars

i tell you the voice inside my head

rest if you must, if you are tired

                   but wake up

remove the flax & flex
   your wobbling legs, stand-

be the 
that sways to the flutes of the wind          & wings away-
be the 
            moon, offering

its whole silver light,
even under claws of stormy sky-

and be that 
that dances with windy tresses                 & raises a glass

of margarita and says,

I have one heck of a story to tell!   

Sleeping Beauty's Dream by CATRIN WELZ-STEIN


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  The pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Come and link up and read our poems.   I have written to last week's prompt by Lillian:  Inspired by Art

Thursday, January 25, 2018

Late January spell

Half moon, cradle of shadows and light
Needle our eyes to star-burst night
Thump our chests, mired in hemlock & brine
Half moon, cradle of shadows and light
Draw amber and seeds on our palms
We long for sunshine and rain clouds 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Earth, walk with me

To where  
my beloved home waits
crisp yellow by red sun 
and serenaded by ancient trees 
here, the smell of musk is spice
the heat is soup with bread
the fragrance of green 
are soft cotton sheets at night
and my eyes are opening at the 
first brush of light
and flight of small wings

Earth, remind me
of dawn's pink sparkle
dispelling fingers of darkest night
of fresh scent of rain
on faces of wild berries 
I want to shrink, sink 
into your chest of silence
turn me into a stone or grain
it matters not
beside the rolling river,
I am pure 
beating heart-

The above poem was inspired by this Pablo Neruda's poem illustrated below:

Turn me oh sun
towards my native destiny,
rain from the ancient forest,
return to me the fragrance and the swords
that fall from the sky,
the solitary peace of field and rock,
the moisture at the margins of the river,
the scent of the larch,
the wind, alive like a heart
beating among the remote flock
of the great araucaria.

Earth, return to me your pure gifts
the towers of silence that rose
from the solemnity of their roots:
I want to return to being what I have not been,
learn to return from such depths
that amongst all the things of nature
I could live or not live: no matter
to be one more stone, the dark stone,
the pure stone that is carried by the river.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Guest host is Jill Lyman.  The prompt is Response Poetry where the challenge is to write a poem that is a direct reply to another poem.  We can test  our poetic limits by mirroring the form of the original poem.  You may also choose to take the challenge to another level by writing two poems in which you respond to an original poem of your own. Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Even a ripple makes a difference

Knead my anger to bread
      of common wheat  
Salt my wounds 
      red with fresh thyme
Against killing fields of innocents' blood
Against greed of tyrants & power mad leaders

Puncture through my chest 
      songs of hurts & injustices
Petrol my voice  
      to ripple through dark alleys 

Let me wear your
      grease of sinful shame
      graveyard of sadness

Keel me with rain-
of compassion
clouds of forgiveness 

Born in me,
not a beast nor coward

Let them not make me a stone 
and let them not spill me.

Otherwise kill me

“Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.”
Louis MacNeice
from, ‘Prayer before Birth

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Bold Tributes hosted by Amaya  Engleking.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Here is the prompt:   We’ll pay tribute to a non-violence or social justice poem by embedding a powerful quote into our own poems, in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Please come join us as there are several example quotes to use, from Thomas Hardy to Margaret Walker, or you can find your own quote inspiring peace.

Thursday, January 11, 2018

Right under our feet

young man boards a full train
   holding a small pot of green, sapling-

sparking color in room of grey scarves,
   black coats and winter boots

i daydream of sleeping seeds
   & blankets of sunshine & cups of tea

a white-haired couple stands near me,
    talking animatedly, as if they are

in their own garden, reading the
    same book & she has stars

in her eyes as he leans in to
    kiss, lover in the intimate space--

their twining hands remind me 
   that spring does not vanish at winter's breath

but is blossoming

By Sharon Knight

Posted for dVerse Open LinkNight - Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visit.  

Monday, January 8, 2018

Winter Moon

The wind chill is thick ice on my legs and cheeks.  I walk quickly inside the house, warm with fleece covers.   The snow is a blanket over the bare landscape, with the sun barely making an appearance.   With the polar vortex temperatures, the only footprints on the snow were those of the black squirrels.   

Some nights, the moon hides behind the thick clouds.   As if swallowed by giant black waves, rocking the night sky.  The stark simplicity of the starless night is a beauty in its purest form.   In the darkness, I muse about many things, including my plans for the coming days.   I see that I have a lot of things to do yet, with time ticking very fast.  Here are my gloves, spade and seeds.   I tend to my inner garden.   

wild field is notebook
blank of green, red and sunshine-
birds flutter- sketch of silver- 

Posted for dVErse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Victoria Slotto.   Last week, we had temperatures going as low as -21 to -30 with the wind chill.  Here is short write up about the haibun prompt:

Here is a short quote about Fuyu No Tsuki from a Japanese perspective: Fuyu No Tsuki has a pale tint that indicates a kind of coldness deep within—solemn and clear, a frame of mind.
Today, I would like to see a brief non-fiction account of your experience (not more than three tight paragraphs) related to Fuyu No Tsuki, the winter moon, followed by a Haiku that observes the standards of the form by including reference to a season.

Monday, January 1, 2018


amethyst & ice-crystals
hug my neck, as needles 

of pain stakes my chest,
yesterday's grey- 

lone blackbird perches on
bare twig  

leaps from the darkness &
flies, flashing silver-

my eyes follow,
an apprentice-

then search underneath
frosty dust

my beat-

beating stone


Posted for dVerse Poets - Quadrille - 44 word post with the word - LEAP.  Join us when the pub doors open once more at 3pm EST.    Happy New Year!  

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Winter Solstice

Night, a lightning.   Shovel hitting the frosty
ground. Splintering crystals into thousand mirrors.  

My eyes squint,
heavy laced with ice
searching for color  
above the walkway
laden of diamond drops-
No, No!
I am a prey 
caught in frozen web-

The moon crackles.  Crescent above skeletal   
trees.   Scattering faint its nebulous light.  

My hands are so cold   
motionless, dead leaves
Push, push
back the black tides
engulfing, surging
my lungs  
the guilty weight is an illusion
Breathe, breathe

The sun crows. Wearing pink & peach shades.
My eyes mist that I made it through long long night.

~0~0~0~0~  ~0~0~0~0~

And finally, our dVerse Anthology is available !   Enjoy the journey of more than 100 poets at Amazon, North America or Amazon, Europe.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.   We are going for a break at the poetry pub for 2 weeks.   

Wishing you all Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays !!!!  ~0~0~0~0~

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Winter's breath

Winter lands in the city
with stiff dove's wings  

It slides under the cars &
creates a whirl of grey clouds

It blankets, spiraling over
fences & roofs, erasing paths & grime

Getting into the groove quickly,
licking every bare tree & fallen leaf with silence

Taking its time
as if the world is flaring, silvery canvas

But its a chameleon
turning clear roads to slippery ice

Some nights, its a vulture
knifing homeless & lost souls on cold streets- 

We fret, with no sunshine
to needle our eyes to light & motion

Forgetting colors & spring flowers
We get intimate with death, melancholia 

& pinched nerves, enveloping our words-
pink, furrowed with blue salt-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics hosted by Lillian ~ Theme is "groove".  
I slipped on the ice last night & fell on my side, while shoveling so I am feeling a bit cautious.  Thank goodness, no broken bones or bruises.  I have forgotten how slippery the ground ice can be.

Thursday, December 7, 2017


we walked on eggshells
around his supersized ego-
giving him pass for his lewd-
ness and foxy behavior

it was our season of sickness,
         rut and rust
we were pawns
in his checkered games-

until 1 woman finds her 
          earth and iron
speaks up
breaks the silence
of gated mountains,
finds a chorus of women


to build a bridge 
over the deep rivers- 


Posted for dVerse Poets pub - Meeting the Bar:  Symbolism, hosted by Victoria C. Slotto. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   

A tribute to all the Silence Breakers, Person of the Year by Time 2017.