Category: AI Art
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9 Sept: A Six Sentence Story
The Book of 27: #19 – Starvow: The Unspoken Vow The Cartography of Brigid In the hush before sunrise, Felreil remembers her — not as a person, but as light. A quiet kind of love — like the sound of a wave inhaling before it breaks, or rain sighing against warm skin — the kind…
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8 Sept: Starvow – The Liturgy
19 of 27 – Liturgy for Starvow: The Silent Exchange I. The GreetingNot a vow spoken,but a pulse exchanged —a light in an east-facing window,answeredby a presence in an old oak tree. It is a dawn ritual with no name,a breath they lend to silence,a space made sacredonly because they both tend it. II. The…
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5 Sept: dVerse Cinquain
Silent Sky (a cinquain poem) So still,the heavens wait —a canvas drawn with hush,its blue skin pulled across the day.Don’t breathe. A cinquain, syllable count 2-4-6-8-2, written for dVerse Poets . Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without…
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6 Sept: MicroDosing 60µg
The key turns.The lock clicks. The air inside smells of much-loved books and lemon soap she used this morning. Her shoulders drop, a weight she hadn’t realised she was carrying — her handbag slides to the floor. “I’m home,” she whispers to the quiet, and the quiet, for the first time all day, whispers back.…
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5 Sept: Ten Things of Thankful (soundtracked)
In no particular order: 1. The clouds could no longer hold the rain. It fell in curtains. Wind’s fingerprint on everything. Sunflowers abandoned to the shadows; petals melted in the rain. I’m thankful for rain in the midst of a drought. The rain barrels are full to overflowing again! 2. Planning an 8-day trip to…
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3 Sept: A Six Sentence Story
Aura – Episode Two (Six Sentence Story) That Jumper Päiviö wears the same wool jumper three days a week — hand-knitted from Icelandic sheep wool, lightweight but tough, its complex snowflake pattern running across chest and shoulders, snagging people’s gaze there for a moment before they take an unconscious half-step back …not because he never…
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2 Sept: dVerse Haibun
The Holding Breath To the 204 men and boys of the 1862 Hartley Colliery disaster — their breath drifts still, coal-dust caught in morning’s blacklung frost. They crawled into the narrow seams where lanterns barely held back the dark, where the air strangled itself thin. We remember the steel-to-stone rhythm of their pickaxes, the hunger-click…
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2 Sept: A Six Sentence Story
18 of 27 – Mirebright: A Fragment Unaccounted-For The Weight of Small Things The chipped bowl by her door held coins — not for luck or for God, but for the hollow-cheeked boy who came at dawn, socks sagging, schoolbag a sack of lint and secondhand books, shoelaces knotted like protection spells. Each morning he…
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2 Sept: Mirebright – The Liturgy
18 of 27 Mirebright – The Poem – The Unaccounted-For I. The GlintNot a star —but a false dawn where hope dies,a light that clings to an unrepentant cheeklike a child’s kiss on a rusted blade.You hope anyway.You love despite. Mirebright is whispered even when no one’s listening. II. The Hollow ChestCompassion aches here —not…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat’s Singing Lessons (An Ode to Avian-Aided Ambition) The robin starts with scales,light as dandelion fluff —“Try trilling deeper,” she chirps.“Like you mean it.Like you own the fence.And the worm beneath it.” The cat responds in C major,with a hint of threat:Mee-YOWL-ooooww… Is that art or a cry for help?The line is thin. The…
It's Still Life 