The World is Your Lobster #Visual Verse Publication

_{^{Image by Adriaen van Utrecht / Rijksmuseum}}

Yes. Feast your eyes. I am centrepiece, after all. Summer’s expanding belly come to laze, somnolent. The sun, a kind benevolence on this good life. Eat your fill and be done. I siesta, waiting for you, of all the ways you’ll bite . . .

. . . you can read the rest of the poem here.

_{^{© N Nazir 2023}}

*My greatest thanks to Visual Verse for publishing my poem this month ❤ And so nice to see many of my fellow bloggers also make it in! It’s like we’ve got VV covered! From all the submissions in the world, the WP bloggers are all over it 🙂

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*Shared for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Bjorn.

A Poem for Glenn

After hearing the sad news yesterday about the recent passing of dVerse poet Glenn Buttkus, I wanted to reshare a poem I’d written in 2021, which had been inspired by one of his photos and a line from one of his poems. It’s out of season but that’s no matter.

From my experience, he was always a good-humoured, vibrant character with an infectious warmth, and I’d had the pleasure of hearing him read a number of times. I particularly loved his more fierce anti-hate-crime, anti-establishment poems. You can read more about him and his poems over at the dVerse page.

Anyway, here’s the poem, shared for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Lillian.

I Added Seasoning to this Poem

And a song for you, Glenn. RIP ❤

Nomad

_{^{Nomad, Erasure Poem #79, watercolour & gel pen on paper, (Sketchbooks 2022), © N Nazir 2022
Text source: Indigo, Marina Warner, p.221}}

the night whispered in excitement

she was a rose-pink starwoman

far from home

her eyes buttonbrown

her palms, like delicate fish

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Published in Issue VIII: Guinevere of Free Verse Revolution Lit Journal, along with erasure poem Revelation and painting Scrying at Dawn. You can download a free digital issue here.

Shared for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Lillian.

The Streets Were Deserted

but for a lone hobo and his dog.  
I went to say hello, it was on my way
after all. He didn’t look well

nor did the hound, who I petted anyway.  
Come to the shelter, I said
you’ll get a hot meal and a warm bed.

The hobo shook his head
they don’t let you in with a dog.

Oh, I didn’t know that. Sorry. So trite 
to wish him merry christmas after that.

I’m sorry, I said again and gave him some change
little good it did, everything closed on the eve.

Then I walked to the shelter, huddled against the wind
late for my shift at the kitchen.

_{^{© N Nazir 2022}}

*Thankfully, this rule has now changed and dogs are allowed to stay with their owners if they check in at the homeless shelters over the Christmas / New Year period (in the UK).

Shared for W3, hosted by David, where Murisopsis, the poet of the week, invites us to write a poem of exactly fourteen lines on the topic of poverty (moral, romantic, financial, etc).

Shared also for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Linda.

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And here’s my Throwback Thursday for you. I love this band. Couldn’t Care More by the Fine Young Cannibals from their album with the same name, first released in 1985. What have you been listening to lately? 🙂

A Bit of Fun

_{^{Collage poems & Erasure Poem #94 (Text source: A Primer for Poets & Readers of Poetry by Gregory Orr), © N Nazir 2022}}

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*Shared for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Bjorn.

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*And here’s my Thursday Throwback share, an absolute classic. If you’re so young you’ve never heard of Salt-N-Pepa or En Vogue, then I hereby gift you. What’s been your song of the day?

*I dedicate this song to Bryan Adams 🙂