Tag Archives: freeverse

freeverse poetry

Rainy Mystery Alley

For reasons i don’t understand myself
I dream of downtowns i will never visit
I prefer to exist in tiny villages with a
Efficient post office, perfect cafe and bakery
Next to a bookshop with stationary
Fresh pencils and inky pens

But when i try (i only try) to sleep
Rocked by tracks or waves
Or a simulation of above
I am high collared coat and
Woolen scarf
Lost in a city i am unsure about

Devoid of knowledge or expectations
Tucking down alleys so narrow
I can touch each side
Intuition leads me to a diner or bar
With 8 seats or less
A barman asks me to finish a top-shelf bottle
So he can finally restock
Entirely impolite not to oblige

A lady en route to work asks me nervously
And tells me her real name without request
Immigrant dishwasher asks for five for a smoke
On the rainy stoop

Favorite music i’ve never heard
Faded enka ballads, and low fado
Improvised bass notes
From the Arco hotel

When i leave, only the lights gently undim,
As a gracious hint
Misty rain invariably falls
I steady with a cane rather than an umbrella
Which simply neglects the senses
Of acute tactility

Neither warm nor chill
Wool and silk release a fragrance
Of countryside hounds
And afternoon farm toil
The trousers are pressable to show again
A crisp crease and a scarf doubles as a hint
Of elegance and distracts from leather boots,
Muddied atop polish from a dirt road monsoon of
The non-fiction chapter of erstwhile reality

Bosphorus Float – Items: Forgotten in Drawers (vol. 1)

Bosphorus Float – Items: Forgotten in Drawers
Bosphorus Float – Items: Forgotten in Drawers

Coarsest Carbon

coarsest carbon compression
creates the finest diamonds

strong rugged
with a gleam channelled
from a promised land

we create this future daily
with appropriate subtlety

I’ve Held the Globe (for Gramps)

I’ve held the globe
thread for vapour trails
of journies
each colour a route
pinned from Greece to Kenya
or St John’s Bay
is that Israel or Syria?

A blue loop with stops at
20 pins circumnavigates
a memory of connections
meals with colleagues
strangers and stewardesses

Red thread of elongated triangles
crosses over itself
making obtuse angles o’er Pacific
Tinian, Hawaii, Japan, Guam
a green line returns to Perth

Pins cover provinces and states
organized pushed with vigor and precision
Prague before velvet divorce
Cuba pre-Castro

Misnamed Indies several times
around Belize, Venezuela, Colombia, Paraguay
Paraguay why?
Was it a holiday steamer
or a recruiting mission?

Heavy machinery to militants, airplanes to diplomats or typewriters to rogues
a letter carried from a mexican ambassador from a round of golf decades before –
carried not as a prize but a pocket card – not an ace but a jack at least,
“This is to introduce my friend, please provide any due consideration.”

Outside the machines dig holes for bricks
disguising the drip and hum of apparatus
chest heaves so shallow,
mouth gapes, head askew,
hands, arms, fingers flush with fluid
ruddy, worn and odd
a man who worked with head and heart,
but little by his hands

Bedouin Shroud – Items: Forgotten in Drawers (vol. 1)

Bedouin Shroud – Items: Forgotten in Drawers
Bedouin Shroud – Items: Forgotten in Drawers

Activat’d – Items: Forgotten in Drawers (vol. 3)

Activat'd – Items: Forgotten in Drawers
Activat’d – Items: Forgotten in Drawers

Hot Springs and Stubbed Toe – Haiku-ish poems, 1992-2004

Grandma in the hills near Saji Tottori Japan - Obaasan
Japanese Obaasan (Grandma) in the hills near Saji-san, Tottori-ken, Japan, circa 1993

“Hot Springs and Stubbed Toe” – A collection of short, haiku-type poems written by DaveO between Tottori, Japan and Olympia, Washington between 1992-2004.

Download Hot Springs and Stubbed Toe (.pdf)




I dream of nowhere
My homing instinct is disappeared
Friends i suppose
But to what end?

Simplicity if includes
Conflicts resolved
easy pleasure

I miss nowhere and no one
I’ve stopped missing myself
Resigned to something like weakness
Or strength of another kind

I dream of notebooks
Crisp pages, inky pens
Taken by someone to transform
Into something grander

I sit alone with pen
Words come easy
But the amplification
Is not mine

Occasionally Free

My half life
Is the better part of me
up to you entirely
which half you want to see

Stolen library books
Or loud guitars
I exist
Somewhere in between

Diamonds and dungaree
Top floor hotels
Or a flophouse squat
Something in a middle path
On a train or out to sea

Weirdness follows along
Wherever i wander and roam
Tiniest palm islands
Or festival jamboree

Trails up mountains
Without a map
Trying to get lost
Cities with no language
Means or currency

My skills are entirely impractical
Sitting in patio cafes
Writing letters to loves i never knew
And drinking watery tea

I’ve minted banknotes on vellum
Carved ink stamps in balsa wood
And manufactured clandestine postage stamps
Printed in Singapore

Who will you choose when we meet
Out here on the globe
Will you recognize my face
As a friend or
Consider me an enemy

Three miles sideways
Just a couple of pals
Perhaps a lover and a best friend
Rotating walk-on characters
In a dramatic documentary comedy

Will you cast me in yours
If i perform well in your required auditions?

Scars from stingrays
A list of broken bones
Initials carved on noble trees
Scrapbooks full of secrets

I’ve heard of something called a home
But not sure where i left it
You ask me where i’m from “from”
I ask you where we are

Observe the world with binoculars
But a monocle shows more clear
Usually hidden behind dark glasses
To hide my joyful tears

Shortwave radio brings me
News from a decade or four ago
Explorers gone before me
Charting meandering paths
Pointing the longest way
To warmth and mystery

Maybe i can be the one
Who inspires or perhaps
Breaks you out of everyday
You are whoever you choose
As though i know
When reality suggests
I know a little except
How to be occasionally free

Bridge – Items: Forgotten in Drawers (vol. 1)

Bridge – Items: Forgotten in Drawers
Bridge – Items: Forgotten in Drawers