Invisible roses – poem for dVerse

He bought her invisible roses –
filled her arms with them –
petals insistent against her skin –
piled them round her –
petals feathering against her lips –
and the smell of them –
deep as wine –
heaped them in great drifts –
until she sank beneath the weight of them
invisible.

Merril is hosting dVerse tonight, and we are asked to think about all things invisible.

I haven’t seen spring, but… – for dVerse

Spring’s a kid
in a bright green hoodie,
yellow spray paint, and purple,
pink and green and white –
tagging everything in sight,
blasting birdsong at top volume,
running, laughing,
scattering shoots and leaves
and petals, dancing
through the rain.

Over at dVerse, Jilly asks us to write a poem about something invisible but real – love, maybe, or a child’s imagination, or springtime…

Invisible voices NaPoWriMo 2

She slipped invisible
between the pages
unnoticed, finding her own way,
invisibility is a curse,
and a power –
I mean, it’s terrible to be
unseen
and yet, invisible, you can
work your way into
the heart of things.

She wore invisibility
like a cloak,
used it to hide
hair unbrushed,
comfortable shoes,
hands untended,
slipped between
blades of grass,
between sheets
of plate glass,
sipped coffee
watched the world.

I mean, it’s terrible to be
unseen
and yet, invisible, I can
work my way into
the heart of things.
I wear invisibility
like a cloak,
use it to hide
hair unbrushed,
comfortable shoes,
hands untended,
I slip between
blades of grass,
between sheets
of plate glass,
insinuate myself between
the molecules of the world.
sip coffee
watch the world
invisible.

You wear invisibility
like a cloak,
use it to hide
hair unbrushed,
comfortable shoes,
hands untended,
you slip between
blades of grass,
between sheets
of plate glass,
insinuate yourself between
the molecules of the world.
sip coffee
watch the world:
you slip invisible
between the pages
unnoticed,
finding your own way.
Invisibility is a
curse, and a power.
Invisible you work your way
into the heart of things.

Day Two of NaPoWriMo and we are asked to play with voices, re-writing poems in the first, second and third person, seeing what happens to them. 

The invisible woman

She slipped invisible
between the pages
unnoticed, finding her own way,

invisibility is a curse,
and a power –

I mean, it’s terrible to be
unseen

and yet, invisible, you can
work your way into
the heart of things.

She wore invisibility
like a cloak,
used it to hide

hair unbrushed,
comfortable shoes,
hands untended,

slipped between
blades of grass,
between sheets
of plate glass,

sipped coffee
watched the world.

 

 

For Lillian, a very visible woman, at dVerse. We are invited to think about superpowers, real, imaginary, whatever.