Category: AI Art
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat’s Afternoon Philosophy The cat watches the Old Woman layer pickle on ham then cheese on a slice of bread, “Think of a sunbeam as a door,” begins the cat, “Step into it.You are gold.Warm.You are exactly where you should be. Then it moves.The door closes.You are you again, slightly chilled,slightly wronged. This is…
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1109: Everywhere Poems
6 Sept ’26: A Week of Everywhere Poems I.“they’re called flittermouse,”I tell him, as two batsplay with twilight. II.he eats an applethat the wind knockedfrom the tree. one footrests on a step, the other legspans four. III.sunset caughtin a cloudracing against the clocktoward France. IV.the windows opento the white sound of windthe lawn finds greenagainslowly.…
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Ten Things of Thankful
This has been a very good week, despite the sober appearance of the woman above — moments of reflection, discovery, and connecting with a change in the weather. I. Bookshelves! Once, our long wall was covered with them, now we have four: reference, cookery books, road maps folded along old journeys, mementoes tucked between them…
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1009: Everywhere Poems
Where Heat Takes You the air sits stitched with thunder,heat flat and still, and I half-remembermy mother’s face,young andlong ago, gentleas a rocking chair creaking. Everywhere Poems don’t have a subject. They have a starting point and follow wherever attention leads. It’s — go for a walk and see where you end up. Some images…
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0909: Everywhere Poems
Free tried once.fell off. slowly. slid like animation.like marmaladeoff hot toast. dented myselfa bit on August-dry clay. soot-black eyeand a sprained wrist. the horse and I,we walked back to the stables. I fed him windfall applesbruised with bee stings. talked about howi’d remember this dayfor the rest of my life. i love to watch horses…
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0909: A Six – SSC&B Alcove
The Alcove: Strikethrough two on the fence, one grey squirrel motionless, an the other — its tail a rudder steering through speed, crimped and flagging semaphores messages; a spiderweb at the window, delicate as Brugge lace, a breeze inflicting coaxing teasing a minute tremor through its lattices; autumn arrived two months early, as though woollen socks had some private grievance against summer the world had grown impatient with…
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0809: Dead Men Don’t Drown
Dead Men Don’t Drown: #5 (catch-up with all episodes here) “Hi Mum, it’s me — ay’okay, well, sort of, because I popped up the shops for milk, bread, and a few bits, and saw two pottery Staffordshire dogs like Gran’s in the antique shop, so I went in to see whether they were worth anything.”…
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0709: The Liturgy
05 Liturgy for the Unintended(for the moment the ear catches what the heart was not meant to hold) I. The Ear That Catches What Was Not MeantIt begins with a moment,an answer,a voice that carries wordswith informationIt arrivesbefore you can close your ears. You did not seek it.You did not want it,but now it is…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat and the Cloud(Or: A Feline Declaration of War on Weather) The cat lies sprawled in his sunbeam,belly up,eyes half-closed, when a cloud drifts lazily across the skyand steals his light. He blinks.Warmth gone.Shadow.Cold.The impertinence of it. He sits up,ears flat,tail bristling. “Old Woman,” he hisses,“that cloud is messingwith my sunny spot.My carefully curatedafternoon…
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0609: Journal of Thoughts
Stream of Consciousness (Motion) There’s a pigeon drinking from the rain gutter, dipping and lifting, dipping again, each swallow calling on the small machinery of its neck, while beneath it a bead of leaf-rusty water finds the gutter’s seamed joint and follows its old route downward; beyond the rain-poxed window a branch moves through still…
It's Still Life 