Month: Nov 2021
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A Wayra for dVerse Poets
dVerse Poets: Wayra Form Ten Minutes After Dinner (draft version 1) He is in a sleepof see-saw, he breathes softly,a rise and fall of his chest.A light rumbling comesfrom his throat. I turn off the moon. Turn Off the Light (draft version 2) He is in a sleep of see-saw, he breathes softly, a rise and fall…
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Day 19: NaPoWriMo 2021
A Bad Day for Smoke and Mirrors I. When Plato said, Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder … he forgot about mirrors. II. And who said Only good comes from self-revelation. My frame is tipsy with gravity and in need of scaffolding, my knees crack when I stand, a noise to wake the…
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Day 18: NaPoWriMo 2021
Day 18: Miz Quickly’s Part 3 and PA’s Thursday prompt Genre: A Still Life with Dead Game, Fruits and Vegetables in a Market by Frans Snyders c. 1614 This is the Thursday market.It’s a voice sticky, thick and red.A still life of lifeless animals,dead birds and gluey fruit.Flies rise and settle on skeweredcorpses of feathered…
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Day 17: NaPoWriMo 2021
Miz Quickly’s Part 2 Cento Rework & PA’s Object Crouching in the Bedsheets (Part 2: Reworking) Winter. Time to eat fat, to fight against walls and blankets, and a tapestry of pewter mornings. Winter bleaching porcelain and sunsets, and grinning like Houdini eyes. It crouches, heroic, and rides the spaces you pass through, roadside trails…
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Day 16: NaPoWriMo 2021
Miz Quickly’s Cento Poem Famine Crouches in the Bedsheets Winter.Time to eat fat,to fight againstwalls and blankets.Winterfixed in a tapestry andbleaching in the sunset.Famine crouches in the horizons you ride,the space you pass through.Heroic trailsof beer bottlesand dead birds on the roadside. Winter is that cat,the colour of pewter mornings.Make it be spring, a porcelain…
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For dVerse Quadrille “Fair”
dVerse Poets Quadrille Photo by Matheus Frade on Unsplash Written for dVerse Poets “Quadrille – Fair” and Twiglets “Head to Toe“. A Quadrille is a 44-word poem sans title. © Misky 2021, shared with #apoemaday on Twitter.
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Day 15: NaPoWriMo 2021
The Halfway Point mid-November leaves hang gold and metal, a breathless limp of (read more …)
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Day 14: NaPoWriMo 2021
Burnt Toast It’s late. Very latein the afternoon whenthe sky brews hollowclouds, and air fevers hot. Thunder bites butit’s late, very latebefore the rain streakssoil brown as shade. A café, we’re undercover. Hunger calls but it’s late, very latefor a bite to eat. We kiss. A kiss of burnttoast and marmalade.We’ll wait. Wait untilit’s late.…
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Day 14.1: NaPoWriMo 2021
A Cat Like That – A Still Life with a Canary and a Hungry Cat (in the style of an Atwood poem) Here is a parrotfeasting on red currants.It severs blood-red deep gems from each squat fragile stem. Here are plums.Ripe damsonswith their deep cleftsexposed.Resting, open in wicker weave. Here is a vase, tallelongated blue,holding…
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Day 13: NaPoWriMo 2021
Just Like Yesterday Thirty nearly forty years now although odd thing, time, it seems like yesterday we arrived here from a place where it was always warm and sunlight was fluid as olive oil. We lived in the midst of an old orchard. Lemons grew in the garden. Thin-skinned oranges. Two olive trees. An avocado…
It's Still Life 