Month: May 2016
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Draft – Up & Up for Miz Quickly
The Unwritten Rules of Repetition I was adrift in my own story but that’s what children do. Draft themselves into an idea and run with it as if those ideas are playmates. I lost that ability to slip in and out of self-indulgence, the owner of my own centre. My universe. And I’m not sure […]
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dVerse Quadrille #10
A Bit of Lunch with My Cousin A piece of me came to visit, a genetic piece — my cousin. We shot the breeze over lunch. Fish and chips by the seaside, Bank Holiday Monday. Weather poured down on us, and the wind howled fury — my hair tangling in ketchup and chips. My […]
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A Nonce for Miz Quickly
A White Moth Wander I am a moth dressed in cheddar white, a celebration of what I once was. Before my edges blurred heavy and dull, and will heaven lower itself when my time comes – so I can reach it? So cruel and so tender is age, and my virtues are scarce vices; my […]
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A Bit of Sriracha Red
A Bit of Sriracha Red I. My strongest memory from kindergarten is not what I learned, although I must’ve learned something, but rather it’s the iron grills in the wooden floors that blew hot air from the belly of that hell-shackled furnace hidden in the school basement. I’d stand there on the iron grill, […]
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Dry Rain for dVerse Poets
Dry Rain When Dad passed away, I was a wailing shell. There was no goodbye, no tidy ending — not like the movies. There’s nothing pretty about a howling heart. And I keep thinking about the airport, last time I saw him, you know — hugs, and I said, ‘See you soon. Love you, Dad.’ […]
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What It Takes for Miz Quickly
In Search of Chutzpah Miz Quickly wants chutzpah. I have none, so I searched. Google says chutzpah has no statistics, hapztuhc is chutzpah spelled backwards. It’s 75-percent consonants, has two syllables, and it can’t be translated into an other language. Chutzpah has no meaning. Now, I reckon a word that has no meaning has chutzpah. […]
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dVerse Haibun #14
Note: This hasn’t gone at all where I wanted it to, so I might take it apart and play with its innards later. Counting Numbers To melt. To melt. Into this stress. Into my ears, sticky-thick. Hear that beat. That struck tick. That clock. Free my bruised breath. Count. On one. I step. On […]
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Poetic Bloomings: Playing Favourites
Lost in Paradise Like a parched traveller who comes out of the deep dust — you laughed like bells ringing, despite this bloody journey. And I am an infernal silence. Jaw. Set. Steel. “Let’s go this way,” you say, “an adventure at every corner.” But there is just ever more and ever more distance. No […]
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Protected: Sunday Whirl & Miz Q: On The Edge of Wind
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
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Once Upon Virgil for Miz Q.
Found On Elm Street The golden sun is a sticky honey, a driven winter from the hollows of trees. Hiding-places. Like homes. Or sweet sipping-streams. If rumour’s true, you kept warm, and smoothed your fingers in heaven’s wander. Found and Remixed text from “The Georgics“, by Virgil and translated by A. S. Kline. […]
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