I Don’t, Usually. . .

The Origins:
Zéjel is a Spanish form with Arabic influence related to the Qasida and adopted by the Spanish troubadours of 15th century.

The Big Picture:
The Zéjel is distinguished by linking rhyme established in the opening mudanza (strophe in which the theme is established in a mono-rhymed triplet).

The Details
>> Syllabic, most often written in 8 syllable lines.
>> Stanzaic, opening with a mono-rhymed triplet followed by any number of quatrains.
>> Rhymed, the rhyme of the opening mudanza establishes a linking rhyme with the end line of the succeeding quatrains. Rhyme scheme: aaa bbba ccca etc.

Thanks, Grace, for kicking my pants. Here’s mine, in response to this week’s dVerse Poets Form Challenge:


I Don’t, Usually…

If you know me, you know it’s true:
It’s not what I most like to do
(I’d prefer to leave it to you)

Formality’s just not my thing.
Count syllables? Find rhymes that sing?
Superfluous. A bunch of bling
held together with verbose glue.

But challenges challenge the soul;
make Free-Versers rise to the goal,
play nice like they’re out on parole
(which I’ve done). I bid you adieu!

dVerse Poets
Meeting The Bar
~ Form: Zéjel ~



(Tanka / Senryu Combo) 09.22.21


I have seen roses
unfolding in the morning
—more ready than I—
I should have risen with them
Summer has forsaken me.

Now I am bereft.
Mid-afternoon Equinox
I can find no rose

Poets And Storytellers United
Weekly Scribble #88

poets and storytell


Double duty prompt response.  Busy yesterday (dVerse) & on the road today (twiglet). Sorry the the slapdash…



On days like this, only
sandalwood incense
and memories
fill the silent air
where truth remains untold
and unmet promises
remain unmet

I shall only linger here

But if I sense a song,
I shall raise my voice
and sing the madman’s aria.

dVerse Poets
Quadrille Monday #136


Tuesday Twiglet #245
~ let me go mad ~


Name That Tune

Okay, I’m into the SoCS (Stream Of Consciousness Saturday) thing lately: minimal planning, no significant editing (ie: typo corrections only). Thanks to Linda G. Hill for the kickstart.

This week’s prompt: “PUZZLE”


Name That Tune

la-la-la     la-la-la-la
la-la-laaaa     la-la-laaaa
la-la-la    la-la-laaa     la-la-laaaa

Go ahead; You can do it.
I know you. I know you can.
You can. I know you.

Even if you don’t     or won’t
or tell yourself you can’t
You know that la-laaaa     la-laaaa
Is gonna la-la-laaa you all day long.
You know it will. It will.

You can ask me for a hint
but all I’m gonna tell you is
dooo-be-doo-be doooooo…

Stream Of Consciousness Saturday
SoCS 09.18.21



Originally published (print) in the Dreamscapes Anthology (July 2019) from Cherry House Press, slightly re-revised for presentation at tonight’s Live Open Link Night at dVerse Poets



I dreamed of my beloved, an oasis
standing by a new house
on a hill in the greening spring
holding a small glass harp,

its strings singing, untouched,
brushed only by a breeze;
its sound, lifted and carried

by the blue air, intoxicating.
I woke up before there was light
and stepped outside, tentative,

barefoot, onto the creaking porch,
with only coffee and the railing for balance.
Another autumn unfolded around me:

the intemperate air almost ready
to carry snowflakes; the world, swirling
out of one darkness into another;

the moon on the verge of eclipse,
Solstice just around the corner.

dVerse Poets Pub
Open Link Night #300
~ OLN – LIVE ~
RDP Friday
~ Autumn ~





empty Ferris wheel
abandoned roller coaster
infectious cotton candy

Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribble #87
~ At The Fair ~

poets and storytell

Unexpected Isolationism


Unexpected Isolationism

Test results are in:
parasite infestation.
Fancy Latin name:
(aka Chagas Disease)

The globetrotter frowns.
Fever. Fatigue. Body aches.
Cancels his ticket
—his trip to Paris cancelled—
Thanks a bunch, Bolivia.

dVerse Poets
Tuesday Poetics
~ Creepies and Crawlies ~


These Alleged Days

These Alleged Days

We all know what’s around the corner
—eight days until the Equinox—
Soon no leaves will dapple the sunlight.

None of that matters anymore anyway.
There’s nothing outside the window.
I only get out of bed to close the blinds.

Tuesday Twiglet #244
~ breaks light ~



’So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm,’ you say? Does that include exemption from the possibility of a Court Martial? Imprisonment? Firing squad? I mean, the Captain didn’t actually order us to take out that village, but we all know what it’s filled with –every last one of them, even the kids. You’ve seen it yourself. They all know how to toss a grenade and run, right? And that’s what we’re here to wipe out, right? So, uh, even if it’s not spelled out in the plan and even if the Captain hasn’t technically ordered it, that’s what we’re here for, right? I mean, it’s my duty, right? Well, thanks for hearing me out. I gotta get back to the squad now.”

After the Lieutenant left, the Chaplain returned to reconsidering his re-enlistment.

dVerse Poets
Prosery Monday
~ Doing Our Duty ~