Category: AI Art
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22 January: A Belligerence
A Belligerence What is it, thiscatch in my eye, thatblack ozonal identity.A fleeting shadowreflecting on the sky. What is it that offends my eye, what electrical impulse,what psychic uprooting.What phantom illnessbrewed this broken wisdom. War is a suicide foundry,a belligerence. A road to hell. written for Linda’s JusJoJan Day 20 “Phantom”. AI Digital Art is mine…
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21 January: Stream of Consciousness Saturday
Count On It ……. my eyes are pinned to workmen down the street, yellow and white stripe van with little amber lights on top, and they’re pulling thick cables from a wooden spool, the likes of which would make an interesting table for the patio, a great improvement on our wrought iron one with the…
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20 January: A Dream Again
A Dream Again Like a feather, or the grey shadeof a tree. I’m falling into myself,dropped and tossed into a dream. And I’m telling my sister thatlife’s all or nothing. And she’s quoting scripture at me,as if she’s a chip off an angel, saying Jesus fed them bread and fishes. And I’m thinking is the…
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19 January: Word of the Day: Merryneum
Word of the day is Merryneum: the blurry space between Christmas and mid-January. AI Digital Art is mine and created using Midjourney’s bot (v4). Image and poem ©Misky 2023 Shared on Twitter #jusjojan #amwriting @midjourney
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18 January: dVerse Winter
A Black Bare Twig I am whiteness and droning drear,woolly and wet,a slipped cold mask,a drumming ear. Huddle ’round your woodburners,seek that whirring fanof warmth against your skin. Garb your hat and scarf and socks.I am the ice underfoot,your skates cutand track my spine, your children embed me with laughter.I am a dark galaxy,winter’s chariot.Gather…
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17 January: Returned Home
Winter’s Iron Maiden A return home to ice, sleet, and snow. Shoes squeak, breath folds and gasps. How still the air. The winter sky presses us under its iron maiden. Written for Twiglets “Returned Home”.
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17 January: dVerse Prosery (Flash Fiction)
Stitched Up We measured moody clouds by hand widths, and when we bored ourselves of that, we played cops and robbers. We pointed fingers at each other, and then blew smoke off our fingertips. You made siren sounds. I was the bad guy. It was always me falling down dead. And Mum sat on the…
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17 January: for JusJoJan Day 16
It’s Called Yididiilo, I Think Yididiilo.I think that’s Somalian for ‘optimistic’, and she certainly is, thinking thata bus will stop here. She has a time schedule, andshe wants to go places likeNutfield. And Redhill. And go to that farm shop across fromthe betting shop, next to whereBlockbusters used to be, although it’s a bingo hall…
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16 January: The Answer is Grey
Grey Grey is the answer.The clouds chained to the sky.The wind heavy with rain.An icy road.The days. The days. EndlessWinter.Moonless Cold.Silence.Sleep.The space betweenA thought.A cashmere scarf.A stray hair.A cold stone.Your empty chair. AI Digital Art is mine and created using Midjourney’s bot (v4, niji engine). Image and poem ©Misky 2023 Shared on Twitter #amwriting #poetry…
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15 January: Bloganuary and JusJoJan
A Breath of Gratitude Through two long years,the lavender bloomed,the thyme grew largeand hard, the oak treespulsed spring green, and my face still behind a mask. And it was several monthsinto autumn when I walkedinto a supermarket, inhaledscents of fruit instead of myslumped breath, and gratitudefilled my lungs as if newborn. And then a woman…
It's Still Life 