Poem HONK HONK HONK… horn blaringeye – rollsI, out of bedpoetry, off tonguechanging of the guard clocks fell into formationseasonal salute6am says good morning into inkback so soon?an alarm never wakes one up on timeonly prematurely. © Darius the Mate 05-04-2022 Written for the dVerse Quadrille.
Tag Archives: Quadrille
Door to door
Poem The door that shutframed your silhouettecut from fruitsnaked as the bowl once pickedjuicy as the lipsonce lickedthe finger tipsthat stripped, emotionswrote you a love letterwore the paper cutthe paper promises that shut the door. © Darius the Mate 23-03-2022 Written for dVerse’s Quadrille.
The scraps
Poem The waiter gestured to their tablethey sat facing one another squarely adversarialnibbling conversation before their starters arrived it pounded thinly on the veil peripherals darkunique features blurred their colours smudged through an opaque screen- as grease on paper -which separated them. © Darius the Mate 08-02-2022 Written for dVerse’s Quadrille; a poem in 44Continue reading “The scraps”
… in the red dress
An erotic romance poem 😘 Shiver down spine Sharp pain in sidecellmate demanding to dine- nowhere to hide – licking stubbled lips wearing a red dress blocking the doorwith a wiggling of hipsfingers go for the liverred heartshaped splatteron the floorby the shiv-er. © Darius the Mate 25-01-2022 Written for dVerse: Quadrille – a poemContinue reading “… in the red dress”
Verdant
A quadrille poem Hitherto,Erato blew kisses and, I wrotebody guided on impulse.Pursuing Thalia ones lost in the woods – there lies the trouble seeking the muse in natureleaves one open to garden variety inspiration.A seasonal harvestthe fruit enduresin the morning frost. © Darius the Mate 10-01-2022 Written for dVerse. Wordplay Pathway https://nicecissist.blog
Pantomime season
A Quadrille poem Painted facespantomime posterclowns on the TVbread in the toasterthe country is burning“They’re behind you!”scream the proles Omicron ducking behind confusing rolesno. 10 party preppingtinsel hand-chuffsfor lawbreakers cheese and winefor lawmakersfool me once … © Darius the Mate 14-12-2021 Written for dVerse. Wordplay Pathway https://nicecissist.blog
Drink up
A quadrille poem Only words;tea stained crowncoronated beneath the coiled mist brown as Thames water – worn on the teeth sugarlesspurely sweet talktrading in counterfeit riches- white lies and empty promises holding out his heart to keepas jarred moonlight- gone in the morning. © Darius the Mate Doubling up: written for Shay’s Word Garden, andContinue reading “Drink up”
Vans gotta do
A quadrille poem Life goes off trackveering, careeningsent round the bendlosing its meaning outta shapea beaten up bangerwatching boots gather dust on the hanger Remember;when you’re feeling bluethere’s always somewhere new …a vans gotta dowhat a vans gotta do. © Darius the Mate Written for dVerse. What is life without community? I would love toContinue reading “Vans gotta do”
The heavy spoon
A Quadrille poem Her spoon fell with a clang bowl rocked in positionchewing the cudchurning suspicionwas she a mad cow? as he did persistflaying his throat wrenching her wristthe frigid soup a stone in her bellythe familiar tasteCream of Machiavelli. © Darius the Mate Written for dVerse Poets Pub. What is life without community? I wouldContinue reading “The heavy spoon”
Pathways
A Quadrille Poem It’s standard practiceto treat disordered emotional states by severing connections;I, the emotional statedrifting through this continuum snatching evanescent fragmentstime lobotomising that which meant so muchtribal connections;surviving memories gatheredtogetherfor warmthlineal pathwaysscattered- fireflies of the hippocampus. © Darius the Mate A poem in 44 words, written for dVerse. What is life without community? I wouldContinue reading “Pathways”
Jukebox
A quadrille poem Thinking thoughtlessly,ideas,often forgotten,if not jotted – Slotted,as gold coins,Let bygones be bygones,But,bygone minds,live on,in written word,Sung,and heard,from the jukebox,of ink and paper,Exhumed,when consumed, Risen,From the soil,voices,Oil,the cogs. Written for dVerse Poets Pub. © Darius the Mate What is life without community? I would love to connect with other nicecissists out there. Reach out, let me knowContinue reading “Jukebox”
Above and Below
Quadrille poem Small hours,Lipgloss smudged,She staggered on pointsOnlookers judged -But, couldn’t be her,For a day,Or, even see her,In any other way,Broken tongue,Eyeliner smeared,Cleopatraesque,The corners teared,Desperate silence,Cries without sound,Below the watery oculus- She drowned. © Darius the Mate Written for dVerse. What is life without community? I would love to connect with other nicecissists out there. Reach out, let meContinue reading “Above and Below”
Opulent Ornamentals & Ponderous Peculiarities
A Quadrille Poem Lent, swaying, pitched on his chair, twirling stache, the devils red hair, Purveying contents, edge of his rocker; curio cabinet/luridness locker, – Prismatic jarred oddities, of wonder and fright, fingers of sunbeam, lambent light, Refractions, grotesque and exquisite – patiently planning, his heads own exhibit. Poem by © Darius the Mate WrittenContinue reading “Opulent Ornamentals & Ponderous Peculiarities”
Open Wound
Quadrille poem Past to the flames,Burn away,on the pyre,Intensifies in fire,Dancing behind eyes,Embers crack and fall,Turn to ash,Cauterise open wounds,Seal the tomb,Leave no name,There’s no blame,Just seared flesh,Wound with bandages, Of dreams and promise. Written for dVerses Quadrille Monday (its long been Tuesday here in Tasmania); create a poem in 44 words. Today we’re celebratingContinue reading “Open Wound”
In the West
Quadrille poem He sat on his porch,From dawn till dusk,Chewed sunflower seeds,Spat out the husk,With that same ol’ sun,Nurturing yields,On the horizon, Tending the fields,The crop harvested,An empty chair,Sun sets in the West,Seeds in the air. My response to the prompt from dVerse. Quadrille Monday; create a 44 word poem, using the word “seed”. OriginalContinue reading “In the West”
Today, I bothered
Bright page under-lights,Skin beneath my face,I space, thinking of the chase,To snare the catch, Rifled shot, ringing in my brain,Beastly words gushing from the vein,Beating through fingertips,Bleed spoils of my bother,Spurting black, eyes wide, I hover. I’ll admit, I’m a pretty one dimensional poet. I love rhymes and I don’t really deviate. I would likeContinue reading “Today, I bothered”
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