A quadrille (44 words) Torn up streets; thick weeds; heavy smell of musk; Long covered for ages by toxic vapor. Survivors? They're living in benighted dusk; None alive have known a sheet of paper. A child in deerskins spurts towards shaman’s tent, Clutching timeworn bottle, fearing dark portent. d’Verse Quadrille #148 The above poem is… Continue reading Dark portent, or: Timeworn bottle
Sangeetha & David's new poetry project Once upon a time, two poets who'd never met in person spontaneously began writing verses back and forth to one another over the Internet. Their first poetry project took them some nine months: a 100 verse Hyakuin. Once they'd completed their oeuvre, the two decided to continue their creative… Continue reading The Ottava Rima, or: Form verses creativity
The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱 
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