Category: Journal
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A Few Days in The New Forest
22 October: I’m back from a few days of splashing around the New Forest (gosh, what a soggy storm that was the other night!), inhaling the fresh air, relishing no crowds, and a bit of exercise. I do love these ponies, who couldn’t care what we humans, hurried and rushing about, are up to or…
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9 October: A Strange Mildness
The Turn of the Season blessthis mess of leaves these trees rattle andturn to burnt bits leaves curl andclench to themselves crisp and brokenunder some version of sun that no longer warmsthrough glass panes. it’s a blinding opticof strange mildness Photo by Jason Mitrione on Unsplash. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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4 October 2021: The Man on the Bus
Lost in His Own Desert I travelat the front of the bus,just for the view,and my eyeis caught by a manwho seems lostin his own emptydesert. He looksat his hands, and stares.He’s in a place that’snot the same as me,and he picksat his beard and then at his ears,and speaks loudlyinto the seatnext to him.And I wonder,…
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For Miz Quickly’s Day Two: All About Heat
Miz Quickly’s Day Two: All About Heat I.I Remember Rain That Felt Like Silk I’ll be an old nag, obdurate, andstill sucking on a Werther’s Originalby the time temperatures soar likewhat Attenborough’s always saying, and I reckon the wind will bloweight-beats to a measure with yourhair-blowing cyclonic in your face,with brown-burnt grass torched off the…
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It’s Just Weather: Heat
It’s Just Weather: Heat We rise with the sun,before the full of heatcrowds the clouds and skims the colour from the day. This is harvest day,clear and hot, a heatusually reserved for ovens,and it leaves our bonessimmered white and limp as foam on foam.…
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28 Sept 2021: It’s Just Weather
Blow This wind has no soulshepherd of destruction It breathes low, and leaves wounds across blossoms and breakable hummingbirds And then it turns back, and blows itself inside out. Image is from Unsplash. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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I Remember Pale Rain
I Remember Pale Rain The thistles have gone purple,spiny and tetchy,and the cosmos (I kid you not)are taller than the fence. I long for the scentof a bonfire and soft rainthat hisses at its embers. What’s happened to our rain?Soft English rain.It was perfumed, pale and translucent.Pinkish.Fragrant. This stuff is Bangkok…
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Tin Soldiers in Their Pockets
Kids Once Carried Tin Soldiers in Their Pockets… Did you know that, he says, as he cleans his hands,his nails one at a time. He stares out the windowwhere moments before children with satchelsstrapped to their backs walked by. They’re likesmall tortoises in no hurry to return to school. Would you turn on the lights,…
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27 August: A Small Ache
A Small Ache Summer has lost a friend.Slipped and tipped over like dominoes,or the soft sorrow of roses, forfend.Summer has lost a friend.Lost its bird song and country lane’s end,and its sweetness of hedgerows.Slipped and tipped over like dominoes,summer has lost a friend. . Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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Planted
Planted Time took my oldest friend’s life. Her son took reams of paper,scribbled with phrases andher partially complete poems,and put them in a metal box.Locked it, and then buried itin a corner of the garden. Rain fell down on it, but it never blossomed, …
It's Still Life 