For dVerse Poets Pub
For dVerse Poets Pub – Where paeansunplugged is our host.
For today’s poetics prompt, I would like you to write an irreverent verse. It could be about something that cannot bear to be laughed at like god, nation, leaders, family or traditions. Keep it irreverent but do not make it disrespectful. Or about an ordinary person’s accidental act of rebellion, like laughing during a solemn occasion or asking an inappropriate question at a large gathering. Take any direction you want to because looking at the world scenario now, “god” knows we need it very much!
May your poems have sharp elbows, a mischievous eyebrow, and absolutely no unnecessary bows.
Poetics Tuesday: The Art of Irreverence
A Little Irreverence, Courtesy of Spanish Bureaucracy
The past few weeks have been particularly frustrating for my family, with medical appointments, paperwork, rules and decisions that sometimes seem to make very little sense.
Living in Spain has taught me that patience is essential, a photocopier is your best friend, and the words cita previa (appointment required) can strike fear into the bravest soul.
So when today’s dVerse Poetics challenge invited us to be a little irreverent, I couldn’t resist.
Sometimes, when life becomes overwhelmingly serious, humour is the only way to keep your sanity.
And I started wondering…
What would happen if even the Grim Reaper had to navigate Spanish bureaucracy?
Death Has an Appointment
For dVerse Poetics — The Art of Irreverence, 27 October 2026
The Grim Reaper arrived at half past nine,
his scythe polished, his cloak divine.
He knocked on the door of Eternity’s Hall,
where a sign announced:
“Appointments only. No exceptions at all.”
“I’ve come for a soul,” he solemnly said.
The clerk barely glanced at the hood on his head.
“Your NIE, señor, and Form 43.
And proof that you’re dead — officially.”
Death blinked twice.
“I AM Death, you see!”
“That’s very nice,
but you’ll need an appointment with Ministry Three.”
He waited for hours,
his patience grew thin,
while a printer declared
there was no paper within.
At last came a stamp,
then another, then four.
“Now take these documents
to the office next door.”
“But I have a schedule!
The souls cannot wait!”
The clerk checked her watch.
“I’m afraid you’re too late.”
Death raised his scythe
with a theatrical sigh.
“Must everyone here
have permission to die?”
The clerk smiled sweetly.
“Not permission, señor.
Just a certificate,
two witnesses,
and photocopies galore.”
Death lowered his scythe,
defeated at last.
He’d survived every plague,
every century past.
But Spanish paperwork?
That battle was lost.
He shuffled outside,
where the sun burned away.
A final voice called:
“Come back mañana!
We’re closing today!”
And somewhere in heaven,
the angels began to laugh.
For the first time in history,
Death had been defeated…
by administrative staff.
https://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=dversepoets&postid=27Oct2026&meme=12476
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
New songs out .
My song is out on streaming platforms.
https://ditto.fm/silenced-but-not-broken
If you want a reading, send me an email:
Leave a Reply