Category: Journal
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2107: Everywhere Poems
The Dry Cleaners that Aren’t Anymore windows open,houses sharing conversation. heat rising,tyres on pavement, a steady whineof a vacuum cleaner — somewhere. “Bought pizza at the dry cleaners. You know, the one busted for drugs years ago,” says my neighbour, “ten minutes they claimed, turned out to be an hour — good pizza though.” “Opening…
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2008: Everywhere Poems
The Axe in the Cedar Block Dad chopped woodevery day,until he couldn’t. One day,he just walked awayfrom his axe. Left it in a block of cedar, sunk deeperthan his tremor. And there it stayed.For years. None of us strong enoughto free it. Eventuallythe blade rusted,angry-red, and the wooden handle fell off. Everywhere Poems don’t have…
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1708: Everywhere Poems
todayhe carries her suitcases, pots and pans,towels,bedlinen, across the thresholdof a university room. I remembercarrying his. the old exchange.what we carry in,what we carry away. on the drive homeI pulled off the highway, stopped the car. some roads are without our knowing.but not this one. todayI send him a text. you’re in my heart,my darling…
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1508: Journal of SenHai
Senryua small bird pausesthe blossoms will not lastbut he trusts the branch. Haikupink breaks on blue aira single bird pins the lightwith unhurried claws. Written for SenHai Saturday: #65 — ©Misky 2006-2026.
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0808: Journal of SenHai
Senryu we are small, brief guests,the mountain thinks nothing ofour human hurry. Haiku blue lake takes the skysnow peaks drift in cold silenceat the edge of ice Written for SenHai Saturday: #64 Not all images are created with Midjourney, but all writing is my own original work. ©Misky 2006-2026.
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0708: Everywhere Poems
Beech (in Six Movements) I.under a beech treelook up and understandwhy forests are shrines beneath its green roof,you are never small.you are welcomed. II.before bells marked hours,before churches reached every village,people looked to placeswhere the world breathed deeply. a tree was enough. standing beneath its green,you do not feel small.you feel remembered,as though Earth itselfstill…
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0208: Everywhere Poems
A Bit of Untitled Silliness I.Heatwave Lunch Ingredients12 ice cubes. MethodArrange artistically.Serve immediately. Complain gentlyabout the weather. Serves:whoever survives. II. The Conversation “This is not lunch,” he says.“No,” I reply, “but it’s cold.” Everywhere Poems don’t have a subject. They have a starting point and follow wherever attention leads. It’s — go for a walk…
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0108: Journal of SenHai
Senryuno one thanks the lightstill it keeps its lonely watchuntil every dawn Haikunight after long nightthe lighthouse forgets itselfonly light remains Written for Saturday SenHai #63 Image by Kellen Riggin – Unsplash.com ©Misky 2006-2026.
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0108: Journal of Thoughts
Shifting Blackberriesin the hedgerows, a month early.Again. And still,there’s a manwho saysthese changes are the greatest con ever. Meanwhile: Canada burns,Spain burns,France burns,Crete burns, Wales smokes,Suffolktakes flame, and sixty thousandpress against a border,spill into Ceuta, enteringwhat we still callsafe. The berries ripen.The fires answer. And weargue with weather. BBC: disaster in the making at Ceuta.…
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1307: Everywhere Poems
This poem is based on a morning of observing ants with my grandson Nico. Do Ants’ Eyes Narrow in the Wind Do ants stop, as I do,and listen to distant thunder roll. Do they lift their feetin snow,on hot sand, and do they dance. Do their eyes narrowin the wind. Do they knowcome July they’ll…
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