Month: Jun 2025
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30 June: Frostwrit – The Liturgy
12 of 27 – Frostwrit – The Poem – Affection Behind a Locked JawA liturgy in six verses I.The Invocation of Knitted BrowsA grandmother’s voice stitches the air—a grey thread pulled tight between fear and fury.The hen’s feathers are not snow.They are the first frost,and the girl is learning to walk on ice. II.The Hiss…
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29.06: Wings & Elderflower
WARNING; MANY WILL FIND THIS VIDEO A HARD ONE TO WATCH. THE MUSIC IS BEAUTIFUL — TRUTH IS OFTEN NOT. Broken Wings and Elderflower The oaks unstitch the night,sunlight dripping through, honey-thick,and pooling in my footprints.It is liquid gold.And above, the warblers tasteof elderflower,their notes glinting like tossed pennies. I kneel into the coolness of…
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28 June: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: The Tate Modern: A lovely morning amongst mobiles, and children discovering the joy of things that seem to fly through the air. (read about it here) Eating tomatoes and cucumbers from the greenhouse. That the garden survived (quite happily) without me while I was visiting family in Virginia, although I am…
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27 June: A Synesthesia Poem
A quiet space between threads, where what is left unspoken is stitched into the fabric of silence. Restless as a Second Skin (a synesthesia poem) The night isn’t black.It’s the textureof unfinished coffee,the sound of a clockchewing its minutes.Your bones humin the key of static,your nerves taste likealuminum foil.And your thoughts—they are the moon,its light…
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27 June: A Thursday Door
In Dijon’s embrace, an old door stands tall,Whispering secrets of ages long past,With weathered wood and stories to tell,Guarding memories, steady and vast. Bushboy (Brian Dodd) shares photos of doors, but not just any doors. Spectacular doors from his journeys. Dan’s Thursday Doors opened the door on this. I love doors of all sorts. I’ve trawled through…
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27 June: A Thameslink Elegy
This poem is best read accompanied by “Spiegel im Spiegel” by Arvo Pärt. Let the music hold the silence between the lines. The Unspooling: A Thameslink Elegy The morning began folded into metal wings,Calder’s mobiles turning the gallery airinto a cantata of pivots—my ears catching what my eyescouldn’t hold. (I listened, a recording, your voice,…
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27 June: Calder’s Circus of Air
A choreography of shadow and balance. These poems trace the kinetic hush of Alexander Calder’s mobiles: laughter forged in wire, physics caught mid-lilt, and the unseen air that puppeteers grace from stillness. Best read with music that understands whimsy and weightlessness. Hit play, then read. Calder’s Circus of Air Imagine the shape of laughtercast in…
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25 June: dVerse Poetics
Kintsugi for the Unfriend We were porcelain once—smooth to the touch,holding the lightlike a shared secret. Then the fracture:a word dropped,a silence grown too heavy,the map of usredrawn in fault lines. Now the gold comes—not to mend,but to make memoriesof what broke. Each lacquered seama testimony:Here is where we held.Here is where we learnedto let…
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25 June: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman’s Unwritten Rules – Vol. IV I. Let the rain borrow your porch,but never your umbrella.Some things are meant to bejust damp enoughto remember they’re alive. II. If a teacup cracks,don’t mourn the china.Ask what it’s trying to say.Most breaks are justunfinished sentences. (Exception: when the cat “accidentally” knocks it over. That’s pure…
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24 June: dVerse Haibun
The Forest, Midsummer Dawn (a haibun) The path underfoot unspools like an old spell—threading through oak older than the word amen, older than the sun that still drips dew with sleep. Ferns uncurl at my ankles. Flint glints like forgotten teeth, and a pony stirs in the bracken… her breath steams a weave of mist.…
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