#dVersePoetsPub
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It’s Haibun Monday over at the dVerse Poets Pub. Our prompt is birthdays. No doubt about it, there are some couples who simply should not procreate. My parents were in this number. They probably should have dated for a while & called it good. But no, they had to take that ball and run with
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It’s Quadrille Monday over at the dVerse Poets Pub. This time our word prompt is some form of the word “blue.” The Blues won’t last, they tell me, this too shall pass, and soon sunshine’ll sneak itself through. What do they know? Nothin.’ ‘Cause they don’t know you. If they did, they’d know (just like
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It’s Quadrille Monday over at the dVerse Poets Pub. This time our prompt is drum. Finally numb to feelings Of love: thoughtlessly (sometimes purposely!) shattered too many times — there’s nothing left to break. Yet, somehow it continues To beat its lonely rhythm, a monotone drum solo for an audience of one who wishes It
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It’s Quadrille Monday at the dVerse Poets Pub. This week our writing prompt is the word close. *** Closing time and you’re still here, sipping the same martini stabbing at its soggy olive with a limp toothpick. Juke box is off. Lights are on. It’s just you And me. Then you whip It out. très
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Tonight at the dVerse Poets Pub, we are celebrating the color Red. Sarahsouthwest is our host tonight. Yeah. Red. Red reminds me of you. That careless blur of candy-slut-red lipstick that tainted your white-on-white shirt. I got rid of the stain — but you failed to get rid of its carrier. Crimson Red. Like
Ergo, the Ogre 