Category: AI Art
-
01.04: The Old Woman Without a Cat
The Old Woman Without a Cat the old woman with no cat sitson the garden step in perfect past tense,next to daffodils that are going papery dry and swollen with seeds. she knows she should snap off theirlittle dead heads, leave them headless as if she were a protagonistin a nursery rhyme, but instead she…
-
29.03: Found Poetry of Ragnarök c.17
Ragnarök: Found in the Weavers c. 17 Found poetry from ‘The Elder or Poetica Edda now safe I am backin service to my silenceand soft … Suttung svikvinn …speeches whispering roadsthat made room for passingthrough rock… Suttung svikvinn … and I worked doubtinto pay back, intotrue heart’s earthly…
-
27 March: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: 1. I’m thankful that the footpath leading from the source of the River Mole (this river is West Sussex’s River Styx—it disappears underground and never resurfaces, hence it’s name, Mole)—anyway, the footpath has finally dried in the spring sunshine, and it’s navigable on foot again without slipping. 2. And I’m thankful…
-
26.03: Let the Last Breath Linger
Prosery: Let the Last Breath Linger some memories, like thin bells,vanishing, a song faint and low. A summer of being. Thirteen. Surrendering my mornings to the public library—piles of books, biblichor, waiting quiet as secrets. Quiet as a librarian’s finger to her lips: shush. I devoured the Dewey Decimal System. It became a fiery furnace…
-
25 March: A Six – Crossing the Mersey
Beyond an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintSix Sentence Story: Day 14 Crossing the Mersey (or The One Without Dialogue) The River Mersey rolls in scrolls against the hull of the Royal Iris ferry, a watery hush stirring Nick’s thoughts—snippets of memory (he looks up at the metallic-grey sky and watches seagulls circling), their…
-
23.03: Found Poetry of Ragnarök
The Weavers c. 16 — found poetry from ‘The Elder or Poetica Edda Her joy.He — liking her love.The night to win is won. Frá rifi til dráttar He came watching—waking,burning torches, and yetmorning found her mindshrewd as day. Frá rifi til dráttar She—a bell like thunder,and a chorus of the deadsay nought for thosedrowned…
-
21 March: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: I am thankful for … You are invited to the Inlinkz link party! Click here to enter https://fresh.inlinkz.com/js/widget/load.js?id=c0efdbe6b4add43dd7ef Welcome to TToT (Ten Things of Thankful) blog hop! Join bloggers from all over the world as we come together to share those things that we are thankful for. Ten is in the…
-
21.03: Found Poetry of Ragnarök
Ragnarök: Found in ‘The Elder or Poetica Edda’ Weavers c. 15 The Words Fell Apart I found sunlight sleepingin the body and soul of me. Við féllum í sundur. Fairest.Fullest..She speaks in soft words. Við féllum í sundur. Plainly.Playing.This I once felt — such was the secret I knew. This is the continuation of the…
-
20.03 Spring’s Arabesque
I dreamt of spring—such a strange little telling; blind, blue-eyed flowers straight from the dark brows of doom into a gentle dance. A swaying arabesque—so soft were its April eyes upon the woodland, its shock of white from a blackthorn’s blossom. There’s always a romp, a bird’s pantomime between branch and bough—a secret song, like…
-
18 March: dVerse Prosery
And in the end,” she said… It’s my eleventh year, far from home, but oddly, I’m at home here—twilight in the garden, the sky open wide to a single star. It’s summer; I often sleep on the porch, and she says, “It’s not what we may be, it’s what we are.” …
It's Still Life 