#dverse — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #dverse, aggregated by home.social.
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7 Birds
The pair of blue jays let me know each dawn when they want their unshelled peanuts, my voice gilded and held in their throats when I finally speak up and answer their call. -
Still Around
a baby elephant ambling before a brass calliope, while red balloons broke free of small hands and drifted through whorls of coal dust and popcorn scents into a smoky sky.https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/08/04/still-around/
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A Sermon from the Warren
Henri Rousseau, Rabbit (1908), oil on canvas Aye, who goes there inside my garden wall?Peering salaciously past morning dew,Some might call you merely a rodent,But not I, beneath this viridian hue. ’Tis a rabbit hopping through the canvas,Past brick walls, digging carrot turf.Some might call you merely a rodent,But your extra teeth reveal a lagomorph. Hazel and Bigwig, notables of her warren,Did Rousseau paint your velveteen nair?With disgust or delight from his backyard,I’d like to […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/07/28/a-sermon-from-the-warren/
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Why My Phone Is Cracked
Rene Magritte-The Lovers I ducked his first swinglike a pigeon bobbingbefore the grill.But the hallelujah sunstole my balance.In a come-to-Jesus moment,I fell in a puff of feathers,clutching our divorce paperswhile my phonefound the backside of the curbfirst. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXW3c5Z6UQ0&list=RDKXW3c5Z6UQ0&start_radio=1 For Todays Dverse poetry prompt, Lisa (at https://tao-talk.com,) is hosting today’s Quadrille Monday. She is having us a write a 44-word poem using a […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/07/13/why-my-phone-is-cracked/
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Department Of Lost Things
Room Corner with Curiosities 1712 by Jan van der Heyden When language was borna covenant was set beside it,written in the marquetryof a forgotten god's altar,beside the pillars of fire and rain. It was said: someone must keepa department for lost things,a workshop of ledgers and shelveswhere ash, rust, and dustarrived bearing names. Not the key, but where it was found.Not the poet, but the words salvaged.Not the letter, but the thumb crease.Not the house, but the smell it carriesafter […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/06/25/department-of-lost-things/
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The Spider And The Swan
Svanen, 1914 - Hilma af Klint Spinnerets clutched,holding her pearls,a huntress, mother,camouflaged, waitingeight eyes, a pair of foursdealt face-up in the dust. She stretches the skyfrom sunset to Olympus.Behold Cygnus in white,feather-gilded majesty,queen of the stars,holding a pair of kings.Between furrow and firmament,between pearl and feather,the age-old gamblea mother waging a betfor a better tomorrowFor Today's Dverse, Mish is having us write a poem contrasting 2 of several images. […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/06/23/the-spider-and-the-swan/
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They Found Ash
On the Pleasures and Perils of Romanticism | by Zachary Bivins In the fey of her smileRome turned to embers. Augustan travertine,sooty, split, toothless;marbled colonnades bowedlike forgotten patriarchsbeneath their scars Empires denied. The moon looked away,a black prayer forgotten;no howls for mercy,only berries crushedin a bear's fell maw. Her lips smoldered,teasing dawn-gilded, like fire from heavenconsuming all thingsthat reached starward. Wyrd, elusive as a fox a wending glimpse […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/06/18/they-found-ash/
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The Color Of Old Receipts
Twilight at the Gas Station by Felipe Hora Just outside this one horse townA few feet across the county linelives a place of olfactory curiositiesBetween the eddies and flotsamOf a much different place and time It's outside, dilapidated, wincingas if in an uncaressing agonyIts paint, pockmarked, peeling offlike track marks up a junkie's armOr a half alive jackrabbit, left for dead Inside is like a museum of memoriesThat you thought you'd never see againScents, like a time traveller […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/06/16/the-color-of-old-receipts/
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Those People
The Blind Leading The Blind by Pieter Bruegel 1568 They curse the homeless at the parkthose bumsridiculing them for getting highat darkThe righteous sneer from their fancy carsjudge notThe science crowd all took the shotjust causeEach tribe needs someone else to blamebizarreWe're all drinking at the same bar https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7gphyYNsdM&list=RDn7gphyYNsdM&start_radio=1 In today's Dverse Meeting at the bar prompt, Laura Bloomsbury is having us explore one of two forms of […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/06/11/those-people/
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In Memoriam
René Magritte, La trahison des images Long before I learned to read and write, I knew things.I knew absence and excess existed before Mrs. Freeman taught me how to add and subtract. As if chalk dust on her fingers meant something permanent.And even then I knew something was already missing before anyone gave me a name for missing. Long before geometry showed up in my seventh-grade textbook, I was already drawing trees, rockets, people, spaceships, and dogs that looked like my puppy, […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/05/25/in-memoriam/
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1971 And Counting
Today is my birthday! And so I wrote a poem about being alive for open link day and fellow poets at Dverse. Enjoy!https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/05/21/1971-and-counting/
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Canus Forgive Us?
The Dog by Francisco Goya (1820-1823) At the brink of a world extinct, the last lodgepole felled,the last mountain top removed,birds traded for drones,butterflies for AI,the stars, devoured wholeby belching factory smog On the world's tarmacAlone sits manand of coursehis smiling dog https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tq3bYPLBcA4&list=RDtq3bYPLBcA4&start_radio=1 Today's Dverse prompt is to write a 44 word quadrille, with the word dog. I am personally more of a cat type, but the faithfulness […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/05/18/canus-forgive-us/
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List of Things Dying
Edward Hopper Sun In An Empty Room (1963) The fly dies firstfalling somewhere unnoticed in a windowsillor into the bottom of a sinkthe spider waits for itin the same tired webit’s trusted all its lifebut nothing comes. The silent die nextthey wither slowlyin lonely apartments with bad plumbing,in hospital rooms,smelling like bleachthey dry inwardlike houseplantsleft in apartment windowsafter somebody moves outbut never comes back. An old man dies after thatthe ventilator coughslike a […]https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/05/14/list-of-things-dying/
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Photo by Ememe . on Pexels.com
After depression hit me with the force of a tow truck careening out of control and running over a beggar sleeping on the footpath, my life became a brooding threnody to wasted years. Hyperbole? Yes, but true in a way, because even nature failed to invigorate me during that period. The azure, glassy sea, the fireflies in the garden summoning nymphs and muses, […]