Month: Feb 2018
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for dVerse Artwork
Under a Wrinkled Sky The night sky wrinkled between the stars, a slow procession, that cat and that elephant. The cat, it sat, ignoring it all, as all cats do, and the elephant, drumming the wooden boat with its weighty foot, and shiny tusks of brassy bold against the midnight black – it breathed, it…
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Twiglet #63
13.02.18 – 21 Syllables The unread green of winter’s garden, waits. Stony, cold as iron. Still, and often white. Twiglet #63: Stone-Still
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dVerse Quadrille #50
Trees Amongst the Forest So that’s what you meant when you said, Welcome to the Forest — but I only know the chorus. Never learned the whole song. The trees turned, murmured unearthly tones, Does she burn as we do, they breathed. I never learned the whole song. dVerse Quadrille #50 “Murmur”
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For Sunday Whirl & RWJ
At Least for Now She folds sheets, snaps their rasping frozen weave against the gusty breeze. It’s hazy, monotonous work. This life is a poverty, likely a saint’s holy calling, but she keeps at it. At least for now. Life is a long twisted rope, so said her mother, and she’s glad for a warm…
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09.02.18
A Siege of Shadows Over my shoulder, a forever glance. I’m a long eclipse across my shadow. A millstone cloud, a blame of feelings. A shadow’s breath with happy noises. I understand randomness more than I understand myself. Gentle thief of solitude, I feel your kinship. I don’t blame your morning to night changeability. We…
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for Three Line Thursday
For Three Line Thursday: “Vinyl”. Constraint: 17 words Over-Easy I. She sways to songs, sheets of sound, pendulum swings, vinyl round, heels tap as her handbag swings. II. Saw a mummy in a foetal curl, skin like vinyl Naugahyde, the colour of my leather sofa.
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dVerse Does Pentimento
A Slow Disappearance We all shuffle along to the weight of delusions. There are days when I feel young. Beautiful. Until I look in the mirror. Beautiful view, you say, watching snow flurries spin across the sea, swallowed into cold cusps of waves. I can’t compete with nature. I remember my first kiss; I closed…
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Twiglet #62
A Disquiet The air is disquiet, and I’m cut short by my own apostrophes. It’s a temper of my own making. Pages torn, words ripped, drawn, quartered and dying, and rising like saints toward heaven. My head is full of their noise. For Twiglet #62 “Air Full of Sound” Image is from Unsplash.
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Remixing “Found” Text from De’s Journal
Remixing Text from De’s Journal Indifferent Noise I am every flit and bay; a scavenger of pale skies, make my soul snow-white. I am that puzzle; a sit, a spill of ink, pale black blowing in the breeze. For Twiglet #62 “Air Full of Sound” The original text is at De’s “I Once…
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Wordle #337
The Postman Only Brings Bills I’m waiting for this ink to spin and bend my pelican-beach thoughts. Gentle words to de-blur my brain. Maybe inject a salty sun, or a sense of minty warmth into my hoar-smitten spectacle. I missed your call last night. Wish you’d left a message, but we both know, everything’s already…
It's Still Life 