Month: Jan 2022
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26.1.22: Stars Still Fall
Stars Still Fall Some moments I hold,some I let freeto the wind. Here and now,I make peace, that windalways blows, and stars always fall, burning smoothto the ground. Tell me of hope,of yours,and I’ll tell of you mine, and we will shareour connectionswhile the world goes on. Image: Breton Women, the Meeting in the Sacred…
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dVerse Quadrille #144
THE SKY IS MIXED WITH BLUE AND BLISS Hello to spring,And my growing soul.Sunshine through the window,And I’m in throws of memory.Your tendrils break the surface,And we hang on tight as you thrashYour way out of winter. Winter, that shiver thatAlways makes me feel alone. dVerse Poets Quadrille #144 “shiver” image is “Breakfast with the Birds”,…
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25.1.22 What You Don’t See…
What You Don’t See When Your Eyes Are Closed I hit the groundrunning last night.Like a Sunday matinée,one of my greatest dreamsof all time. Ever. And I can’t rememberany of it now.A vanishing act.It was epic though. Like mathematics,or an opalescent smear on a lakeor like crows staring down a sunset froma bare-boned tree. Dreams,…
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24.1.22 Luminous Chaos
Luminous Chaos Darkness has a differentlight around here,you can see cloudscrushing against one another.The breeze pushes them alonglike kinetic sheep,and wind announcing itselfthrough invisible gapsin the windowsill.It sounds transient,like a train’s last gasp,wet, metallic and moaning. The wind seems to blowdarker than deep January. Image: January Thaw, Edge of Town by Lawren Harris, 1921 (public…
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23.1.22 Go Dog Go Cafe Haibun
It’s a sort of mid-January middling-damp. It’s drizzly. Dwet. Grey. Dwippy. Like cornflake-sog in a puddle of tepid milk. It’s January when people feel entitled to leave the dwishes and coffee cups on the twable for some other dweeb on a dwet day to clear away. And I’ve been thinking about that word ‘grumpy’ –…
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22.1.22: Herniated Disks and Other Mischiefs
To Hell ‘n Back It’s a herniated disk, you see. Nope, I didn’t do a thing. It just happened. Sitting on a chair, eating dinner. Then pop. And I can’t sleep. I’m trying not to move. Every twitch, stabs. And I notice that the street light licks the bedroom wall a silent grey, a smeared…
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21.1.22 GoDogGo Cafe Version 2
Where We Can Begin Again Return. New light of daywhen night slips offlike the skin of a soul, it keeps shadows from creeping up behind us,like black cats on our path. We’ll rise with the sun,bleat arrows into heaven’sblankness between stars, and whisper simple sighsand hum our satisfaction.We dream of ocean waves that break in…
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21.1.22 Where We Can Begin Again
There’s an updated version of this post for GoDogGo Cafe : Tuesday Writing Challenge . Photo by Karim MANJRA on Unsplash ©Misky 2022 Shared with #godoggocafe #amwriting #apoemaday on Twitter
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19.01.22 We Call It Home
We Call It Home This place,this English coastwhere cliffs jut out bonesand prehistoric coloursoversleep in silt, and wherestorm-carved boulders mimicheroes’ heads,and alternate worldslive beneath the sheenof sea, here in this place wherewind cycles into ditchand fells, andstars top the sky likespilt milk. This place is home. Inspired by Linda Hill’s Prompt 18 January #JusJoJan “cycle” Photo by Ana Paula…
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18.1.22 dVerse Thesaurus Day
Tsunami The pebbles rolland wheel,and blabber in its foreign tongue. It’s a weedy pitched language,an unfamiliar voice ofwaves pullingat the beach’s happy aspect.And then it cackleswith laughter. Foam dribbles off sleeves of kelp,unhingedfrom the pier,a wave draws back breathand swells again. And then it gurgles death’s rattle,fighting an ebb retreat,and seethes. Written for dVerse #ThesaurusDay using the…
It's Still Life 