Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – InForm:  Brevette

“The Brevette, consists of a subject (noun), verb, and object (noun), in this exact order. The verb should show an ongoing action. This is done by spacing out the letters in the verb. There are only three words in the poem, giving it the title Brevette.

Each of the three words may have any number of syllables, but it is desirable that the poem have balance in the choice of these words. Unlike haiku, there are no other rules to follow.”

The Brevette was created by Emily Romano.

w a v e s

f a l l

s p i l l s

c a r r y

c r o a k

c r a y o n s

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Caught In The Rain

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub – Imagery in Poetry~Rubaiyat support  (posted by Jilly)


“The word Image is synonymous with Picture and makes us think of the Visual, as it should, but that is limiting. Imagery in literature is when we spark the reader’s senses – any of them – all of them! Imagery pulls the reader into the poem and allows them to feel as if they are there.

Imagery is an essential component in the Rubaiyat form, so let’s take a look at some examples of language that appeals to our physical senses.

You get the idea – appeal to the senses – all six of them. (Did she say ‘six?’) Yes I did and in fact, you can find all kinds of references to imagery that go beyond even that number, but I am going to limit it to six: 1.) Visual, 2.) Tactile/Touch, 3.) Olfactory/Smell, 4.) Taste, 5.) Auditory, and 6.) Kinesthetic.

The Kinesthetic sense is that which causes us to feel and sense motion. Think of that roller coaster, that time when you were sea-sick, or when you fell down the stairs as a child. We all recognize the dizzying feeling or the joy of motion, depending on the situation. Of course, employing kinesthesia can also be the experience of something other than ourselves in motion.”

First spritz of rain touched my face.
Looked up, sky was in rumble phase,
clouds loomed menacing and low.
Whirling wind blew; I picked up my pace.

Ran through summer grass, earth scent embraced.
Hair whiplashed cheeks. Where was that café?
Umbrellas collapsed, people scurried to and fro.
Ah, aroma of a steamy latte.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Owner Of Dogs, Barks

Written for:  Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads – “Shortcake, Waffles, Berries, and Cream . . . Feburary!  (posted by Sanaa)

“Joseph O Legaspi is a poet born in the Philippines. When he was only twelve, his family immigrated to Los Angeles, California, his life has always been oriented towards writing. Author of the poetry collections Threshold (2017) and Imago (2007), Legaspi has been honored with a poetry fellowship from the New York Foundation of the Arts.”


Awkward and dry is love.
A moist kiss simmers as cherry pie.

A peck reddens into poppy.
Several feed like birds in your hands.

The first kiss carries history. The customary roses,
a bouquet received by two.

On the right side of her mouth, she is your mother.
On the left side, she’s the sister you never had.

If delicate yet firm, a kiss can resuscitate the drowned Ophelia;
hurried and open-mouthed, moths flutter out of her body.

A kiss that glides smoothly possesses the pleasant lightness of tea.
If it smudges, prepare yourself for children.

A kiss that roams the curving of the lips,
the tongue still tracing the slopes even
without her near is a poet’s muse.

When bitten on the lower lip—I am your peach—
if she’s left there biting, dangling, she’ll burn the tree.

When she’s sucking your lips as if through a straw
she wants you in her.

Never quite touching, sky and earth bridged
by clouds of breath, speak in recitation:

Because I am the ocean in which she cannot swim,
my lover turned into the sea.

Or cradle her in the cushions of your lips,
let her sleep in the pink.

“For today’s challenge, I want you to embrace the idea, theme and technique of Legaspi’s poem and write one of your own. Your poems don’t necessarily have to be mushy and romantic, they can also be solemn and act as a tribute to your loved one.”

Can I hold your paw?
Oh, now I want another one.

Here, let me get those tangles smoothed
even though you hate being brushed.

Don’t move! This will be a perfect photo–
oh, you moved.

One waits for heat, lying beside vent,
other makes snow angels, staring at night sky.

They both curl into balls on sofa.
I feel warm and loved.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Language Of Love

Written for:  Poetic Asides #471-Language, and Poets United Midweek Motif~Love

Language of love
is universal. Electricity
flows in the veins of people
in every country. Body language
is evident. Eyes burn into
other eyes. Lips touch,clipart heart
hugs are warm,Language of love
is universal. Electricity
flows in the veins of people
in every country. Body language
is evident. Eyes burn into
other eyes. Lips touch,
hugs are warm,
 sweet music
plays–all comprise the language
of love.

Posted in Purple's Home | 8 Comments

Well, Crush My Candy!

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics:  “Games Night!”

This prompt is a fight back. The poet’s revenge on the digital seduction. And I’m hoping it will be a bit of fun. We’ve done similar prompts in the past – I remember writing poems featuring cereal and candy bar names. Tonight, I want you to choose 3 names from the list of computer game names below, and somehow or other wrangle them into a poem.

You don’t need to know anything about the game – just let the name inspire you.

Here goes:



Blossom Blast

Space Invaders

Assassin’s Creed

Honey Mine




The Elder Scrolls

Candy Crush






God of War


Dark Souls


Baby, baby, baby
you sure got a dark soul.
You make me crazy, crazy, crazy,
and it’s takin’ a toll.

Startin’ to feel life’s unreal.
You always crushin’ my candy
while I’m sittin’ behind the wheel.
Sometimes, you’re too handy.

Baby, baby, baby,
let some light shine in.
Crushin’ candy, candy, candy
you ain’t about to win.

Dark Souls

Path of Exile.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , | 12 Comments

pinch of fog

Written for:  The Twiglets #113 – “a pinch of fog”

Add a pinch of fog
to his medicine; he will
never notice what he is taking.

In times of wishing
to be alone, in a pinch,
fog will occlude you.

She was pinched by fog
but could not prove it.

There once was a man from Quogue
who lived his life in a fog
While out digging for clams
for a dinner he planned
a jellyfish stung, and said, get glasses, you clod.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , , | 11 Comments

Juicy Kisses

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub – Quadrille #73 “A Prelude to a Kiss”  (Posted by De)
“I want you to blow some kisses into your poems today. A prelude to a kiss. A goodnight kiss on a baby’s cheek. K-I-S-S-I-N-G (first comes love, second comes poems…) Kiss someone’s arse. Kiss the Blarney Stone. Visit a kissing booth. Be sweet 16 again and never been kissed. Delight us with some chocolate kisses, or frighten us with a kiss of death. Whatever mood or form you choose, just be sure your poem gives that Q smackeroo: precisely 44 words, not including the title, and literally containing some form of the word “kiss.”


Bite into a large
dipped in dark chocolate.
Let it fill your mouth
with exquisite juices.
While that strawberry/chocolate
splendor remains, kiss
the one who has just
done the same. Unless
you are allergic to
strawberries (how sad).
Pick another juicy fruit.


Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 24 Comments

Unlike Minded

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #42


“War Horse and Peace Horse” by Sue Halstenberg

While vivid color and appearance
is similar, minds and hearts
are not. One mind races
with plots and bloody hand
-prints to the apex–dominant,
dictator, conqueror–with
shrunken heart. The other
mind clearly sees people
coming together in harmony,
love, and laughter. Peace
prevails in open hearts.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , , | 6 Comments

An Act Of Sabotage

Written for:  Poetic Blomings2 – #234 – Motivation:  Ambition

mine is sabotaged
by myself.
Why is that
do you suppose? Frightened of
failure or success?

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Flies

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #390

Words:  cadence, credence, apart, fly, star, shy, chart, barter, shoot, chance, mar, sly

Freaky flies marred
the sky, just shy of
blackening heavens.
A steady cadence of
rubbing wings pierced
earth. Ancient maps
and charts were studied
to see if this was a chance
occurrence or if there was
some reference that would
lend credence to sudden
appearance of flies.  Apart
from citing an old movie shoot
called, The Fly, nothing
was found. Not mean
or sly in the least, the new
inhabitants seemed to enjoy
hanging upside down, red eyes
bulging. The stars hoped
for a barter of some sort
so they could return
to their proper place. Alas,
no one spoke Flyish.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment