Radical Surgery

A thoracic surgeon performs a mitral valve rep...

A thoracic surgeon performs a mitral valve replacement at the Fitzsimons Army Medical Center. Slovenščina: Kirurgi med operacijo. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Radical Surgery

The day I diagnosed your treachery,
excised deception from my fragile life,
I cauterised my heart, scrubbed clean of strife.

How to assess what you have done to me?
the lies you told, emotions cold,
anesthetized my longing to be free.

I close the wound incised with your dull knife,
Debride my feelings of your treachery.

Written for today’s Poetics at dVerse Poets’ Pub in which we are asked by the incomparable Karin Gustafson to choose active verbs from one profession and apply them to a completely different scenario. I’ve chosen to use Luke Prater’s Octain form. Check out his site to learn more about it.

And…I suspect I’m not the only one out there who’s dated a sociopath?

“The End”–for dVerse Poetics

What, me film noir?

The End

No words to speak—none needed now.
Your body emanates disdain,
brusque movements tell your love was feigned.

Outside our window, on a bough,
a blackbird caws, dark winter thaws,
as does the meaning of our vows.

Empty expressions, pulsing pain,
no words to say what’s needed now.

This week at dVerse Poetics, Sheila Moore http://shewriting.blogspot.com/ the opportunity to write about silent movies. I chose a drama that occurs, all too often, on and off the screen. The form is an Octain, developed by Luke Prater http://lukepraterswordsalad.com/.

Stop by the pub, go back in time, and enjoy some great poetry about those silent films: http://dversepoets.com

Thanks you Sheila…and Luke, for the form.

Untitled Octain–One Shot Wednesday

Jean Jacques Henner, Solitude

Image via Wikipedia

Here’s another attempt at an Octain, a poetic form created by Luke Prater and linked to One Shot Wednesday: http://onestoppoetry.com/

Untitled Octain

How many lives are spent in vain,
too conscious of the voice of fear,
thoughts muddled so that sight’s unclear.

They creep through days avoiding pain
or, warped by hate, they learn too late
to trust that love should ever deign

to visit them and draw them near.
Too many lives are spent in vain.

The Call of Spring–An Octain

Photo: David Slotto April 2011

This poem is in response to One Stop Poetry’s invitation to write an Octain, a poetic form developed by fellow poet/blogger Luke Prater. Visit their site to learn about Octains, read other emerging and seasoned poets and, perhaps, write one of your own. http://onestoppoetry.com/

As I was pondering a subject for mine I glanced out the window of my treehouse/office and a hummingbird was hovering–I guess to thank me for putting out the feeder. He’s still here! I couldn’t resist using this photo of the Leucistic Hummingbird that frequented our feeder while we were in Palm Desert over the winter.

The Call of Spring
An Octain

Outside my window, should I look,
a hummingbird has taken wing
while nightingale begins to sing.

A quail emerges from her nook
for her dirt bath beside the path
that moseys down along the brook.

Attending to the call of spring
to go outside, I close my book.