Posted in Poetry


raising the fists of his angry politik
his angry hands
that Christmas Day
in one instant a swirling murmuration
of unsaid I’m sorrys
       in clusters of silent sevens
entered the windows, the doors,
funnelled about the room
orphaning her for once and for all.

© Jilly’s  All Rights Reserved

A Quadrille using the word ‘murmur’ for dVerse Poet’s Pub.

Posted in Poetry

Edgar Apocryphal Poe

Lines on Ale is, by some, attributed to Edgar Allan Poe, but disclaimed by the Poe Society of Baltimore as apocryphal. The story behind this bit of verse is as shady as a raven.  Whether or not the man himself penned these lines, I wrote this silly bit of response poetry about a week ago, but must beg apologies of Charley at Life in Portofino for the resemblance to his recent post for this same challenge at dVerse. The wives must have their due.

Lines on Ale                                                                      The Ale-Wive’s Response

Fill with mingled cream and amber,                    Filled with mingled irk and ire
I will drain that glass again.                                    I will trench your gutters clear.
Such hilarious visions clamber                              Such indignant visions mount
Through the chamber of my brain —                   Through bed-chambers of this house–
Quaintest thoughts — queerest fancies                Direst thoughts – retching children
Come to life and fade away;                                    Come to spew, ailing with the flu;
What care I how time advances?                           What care you while drinking ale?
I am drinking ale today.                                            I am home with mop and pail.
formerly attributed to Poe                                               © Silly Jilly’s Response


Posted in Poetry

The Snake’s Keening (A Response Poem)

I am guest-hosting Meeting the Bar at dVerse Poet’s Pub.  I challenge my fellow poets to write response poetry.  (See Marlowe and Ralegh’s poems for examples.)  I have written a response in the voice of the snake to Denise Levertov’s poem, To the Snake.  Her poem follows below.

The Snake’s Keening

Bright Girl, when you plucked me from
the grass and round your neck I hung
felt your seering warmth
and whispered in your ear the secrets
of a serpent’s curse
the weight of sin and shame I bare
wounded in your ears —

Bright Girl — I swore to my scaled children that certainly
you were sinless! But truly
I had no hope of ever passing your heel, only desire
and be held by you, for that thrill,
which bereft
of guilt, as the grass closed
behind me, and you with that dark
assurance in your eyes,
I shall never share.

© Jilly’s  All Rights Reserved

To the Snake
by Denise Levertov

Green Snake, when I hung you round my neck
and stroked your cold, pulsing throat
as you hissed to me, glinting
arrowy gold scales, and I felt
the weight of you on my shoulders,
and the whispering silver of your dryness
sounded close at my ears —

Green Snake–I swore to my companions that certainly
you were harmless! But truly
I had no certainty, and no hope, only desiring
to hold you, for that joy,
which left
a long wake of pleasure, as the leaves moved
and you faded into the pattern
of grass and shadows, and I returned
smiling and haunted, to a dark morning.

To the Snake, by Denise Levertov
Poetry Foundation, October 1958

Posted in Poetry

It’s Only a Syndrome to Peter Pan

Jacks on the kitchen floor
Mom had the advantage
she could do the splits
I could only try

Casting aluminum stars
silver, purple, red, green
Tossing the red ball


Over the fence!


ever a child
lesson learned
never drop a star

© Jilly & Silly Jilly  All Rights Reserved

A Quadrille for dVerse where De has us bouncing into a fresh week of poetry!

Posted in Poetry

White Noise

white noise

seals the  leaks

around my windows —

my doors —

exposing every corner

to the scrutiny

of a child’s

freckled stare.


You see me –


too plainly…



Snatched from innocence and other casualties of life, what penetrating eyes do not

s            e             e



© Poem & Sound Cloud by Jilly  All Rights Reserved

We are exploring silence in poetry at dVerse.  Join us!

Posted in Poetry

The Teacher Groove

five a.m. feet hit the floor
jazz is playin’
coffee drinkin’
face kissin’
out the door

seven a.m. kids at my door
Chaucer verse plyin’
sarcasm flyin’
student buy-in
bell is vyin’
our time is high an’
dry and they’re
out the door

all morning long
they’s readin’
they’s writin’
they’s commentin’
“This Pardoner dude
is a real duche bag”
Couldn’a said it better

full tilt groovin’
I is behoovin’
students improvin’
never stop movin’

three p.m. hittin’ the car
radio’s soundin’
homeward I’s cruisin’
front door is speakin’

and just like that it’s






Game Over!

© Written & Spoken Words by Jilly  All Rights Reserved

Join us at dVerse where we are groovin!

Posted in Poetry

Tea & Company

Visited with the fading
moon last night.

She said,
“The morning after
is something of a let-down,
what with all the excitement
and blush

Sighing, she reached for
her tea, adding,
“Nothing left to do,
I suppose, but become less
than I have been.”

I thought I saw a small
smile just before the cup
reached her lips.

© Jilly’s  All Rights Reserved

Lil encourages us to write a poem using the word ‘Visit’ for Poetics at dVerse.  Join us!

Posted in Casting Bricks Collaborative Poetry, Poetry

McCrunchy’s Café

Come on down to McCrunchy’s Café
Come on down today!

For breakfast you’ll fare the most –
an ironic side of bacon,
unchallenged eggs over-easy,
even some wry toast –
one jittery cup of coffee; to-go.

Come on down to McCrunchy’s Café
Come on down today!


Posting for dVerse’s Quadrille and this is my half-poem Challenge for the December edition of Casting Bricks to Attract Jade.  Everyone is welcome to join in!

Posted in Poetry



in my pocket full

of verses full

of lies

sifting specks


as crumbs

through the tiny

hole I drilled


so as to find my way



© Jilly’s  All Rights Reserved

Writing about change at dVerse tonight.  Join us.