Q#200 ablaze

Quadrille #200

Q#200 ablaze.


You set my heart ablaze,
Firing up a lust I cannot fight.

My blood is burning,
Firing my desire for your company.

I am craving your heat,
Your warmth within me, driving me mad.

 Cannot get enough of,
Curried goat with rice and peas.

© 29/04/2024 rog leach




Thank you  Mish for such a fun for the 200th #quadrille ' #dversepoetry pub

Frustration#Pantoun

MTB: Repeating Lines in Pantoum Form

tonight @ #dversepoetspub we are writing Pantoun poems which have a certain pattern of repeating lines. this was suggested by Merril as their prompt for hasting tonight’s meeting the bar.

Frustration. #Pantoun

Frustration grips my mind,
Dragging me down into darkness,
Willingly trying to find,
My way out of this blackness.

Dragging me down into darkness,
A lack of opportunity persists,
My way out of the blackness,
Is to hang on in there and resist.

A lack of opportunity persists,
My minds way of fighting,
Is to hang on in there and resist.
While I keep on writing.

My minds always fighting,
Willingly trying to find,
A way to keep me writing,
While, Frustration grips my mind.

© 18/04/2024 rog leach

the last 144 star’s

Prosery – Amy Woolard

The following prose is based on the line “What does it matter, that the stars we see are already dead.” from a poem called Laura Palmer Graduates by #AmyWooland. written to a prompt @ #dversepoetrypub for a prosery prompt set by dorahak.

The last 144 stars

Starlorn* and blue we sat as the last two. knowing we had destroyed our home. We started with the whales. Then we moved onto the forests and everything within them. With our chainsaws and palm oil plantations.

Starlorn and blue we sit whishing for love from the stars. When they can only scream in despair at their child’s death. The last 144 stars set into action a plan for our demise. Becoming extinct in the production of such a deadly radioactive energy for our consumption.

Righteous we are not. Dishevelled is our home plant, our morals torn and rotten to the core. The universe rejects our entitled thinking and our take, take, take.

What does it matter that the stars we see are already dead as we pass from this universe as the bad guys. The next universe is better off without out us.

*Starlorn- a sense of loneliness looking at the night sky. Feeling like a castaway marooned in the middle of an ocean. (From the dictionary of obscure sorrows.)

night sky

Stepping Out of this World!

Kulmhotel Garnergrat observatory. Switzerland at an altitude of 10,171 feet

Stepping out.

Stepping out, stepping out hell yeah,
From mountain top, leaving my body behind,
Tibetan Buddhist burial feeding the condors.

Floating away, floating away,
Away, away into the nebula,
Becoming one, one with another planet.

Becoming a god hell no, guardian?
Spreading love of a new beginning,
Tibetan Buddhist burial feeding the universe.

© 02/04/2024 rog leach

Thanks Lillian for tonight's #dversepoetspub prompt. where she has inspired us to write about a choice of pictures taken by astronomer John Mckavener.

contour #quadrille

dVerse — Quadrille Monday #198 — Fuzzy Frameworks

here we are again at the #dversepoetspub heading around the CONTOURS of this great fun poetry form.

Contour #quadrille.

Walking towards death,
Choose wisely what,
you leave behind.

Quadrilles, limericks, tankas, sonnets or haikus.

Monday mornings contours,
Sheer faced treachery of work,
Until time to sit and put pen to paper.

With Green clouds Celicta,
Playing on the headphones,
Monday over #Quadrille written.

© 01/04/2024 rog leach