Month: Jul 2016
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dVerse: Twitter Poetry
Tidy Mowed the grass into narrow straight lines, trimmed the edges sharp. Deadheaded roses. The apple tree needs spraying. I had my haircut today. for dVerse: Twitter-Length Poetry. 140 characters total
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dVerse “Sevenling”
A Flinch I was smaller. Younger. Sharper. Like gravel. I spoke in consonant chords. In song. I was like earthquake weather © Misky 2016. for dVerse “Sevenling” themed music
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Poetic Bloomings: 20 July
Wednesday, 20 July I listened to the timbre of crows last night — fighting over scraps. I chased them off into the drizzle. Into the trees. I can’t forgive their charred voices. I can’t forgive the end of peace. © Misky 2016 for Poetic Bloomings: “Last Days“
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dVerse Quadrille #13
A Fluttering Folly Time’s not making this any easier; I wear your memory like a ring. Twist it when it’s too tight, curse it like a floundering rite when it aches. Memories of all my failures, fluttering follies like sails on little boats fleeing this journey. © Misky 2016. For dVerse Quadrille #13…
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Poetic Bloomings: 18 July
In My Room This room is a dainty whim. Its north light dimmed through lacy sheers. And against the wall an old soft chair, covered in ivy green — it holds the corner with photos, frames, books boxed and scattered, and a stuffed lizard with a bored grin. A room for dust held tight, here…
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Poetic Bloomings: 17 July
“I know I am but Summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year” ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay On the Hard Points of Pebbles Feels almost prehistoric now, it was that long ago. I was paid a pittance for watering the neighbour’s gardens. Every evening I spilled the coolness of…
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Poetic Bloomings: 16 July
The Summer We Lost Childhood We were 6th grade. The big kids, and we walked the rail line. Its steel shining, a thin string of silver silk that disappeared into the distance as if swallowed by trees and life’s path. It was a balancing game. Practise. To see who’d go the farthest. Those summers were…
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Poetic Bloomings: 15 July
Dawn and Dogs and … Is this your dawn or mine — Is it yours to greet or mine to ignore. That glare is a fishwife’s shriek, it wakes the dog, who paws the door, who whines for relief as it walks the floor, then into the garden, emptied, relieved. I sleep. I sleep. Today’s…
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Poetic Bloomings: 13 July
Shades of Sand I wade in salty sea with delirious shells On shades of sand, in fog that sighs, And once again I walk summer’s swell It caresses my feet, soft as butterflies. On shades of sand, in fog that sighs Come night when stars are born and bed caress my feet, soft as butterflies.…
It's Still Life 