Category: Journal
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11 August: One Line on Wednesday
Mum said I was born on a Wednesday, although she doesn’t remember any of it; she was given some sledge hammer sedative, and says she pities women who have to stay awake through all that. Written for One Liner Wednesday . Image is from Unsplash. #1LinerWeds Shared with #APoemADay #1LinerWeds on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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An Excerpt From a Conversation with Customer Service
You can’t deliver dead flowers to a woman whose husband just died. This is a 17-syllable “American Sentence” which received benefit of linebreaks. Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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28 June 2021
We’re Lucky Fear and suspicion, death and isolation aside,lockdown was good to us, I say.You’re eating oatmeal. You nod. We had ample food on the table,our health, and money enoughto turn on the heating in June. You pause the spoonfuls to sayit was the wettest, coldest June you can rightly remember. I nod. And…
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Time, Picnics and Blizzards
Time is laid out like a picnic – Margaret Atwood “Salt” Sometimes, Time Is A Blizzard (which is why you won’t see any punctuation in this one) our old clockticks a bit slowerthen it might yet the daystill slips fromthis room to the next The…
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10 May 2021: A Journal Entry
A new journal entry was just added to 10 May at The Journal. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021 https://miskmask.wordpress.com/2021/05/10/10-may-2021-a-meander/
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9 May 2021: When …
When Whencool moonlight scents the night colour-blind,and streetlights shimmer languages to stars, and May’s burnt into photos of things growing,and you’ve trampled all your question marks, that’s when I think about that bird that hit the window,and it fell to the pavement. A small soft stain.We wrapped it a towel, and buried it. That day…
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Of Flu and Gloom
A Small Girl Wearing Angel Wings She’s as faithful as a tree,standing there,singing,small hands cold as blue light,she takes a coin here and there,sings on the corner of 1st and Hythe Road,stands with a man from the Mission,she’s like a dove,a flushed joyful point in this flu and gloom.…
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The Best Laid Eggs
The Best Laid Eggs and as I peel eggs today, the soft white flesh sticking to the shell, and tearing away in ragged clumps, My thoughtsWander away withThose words pumped up with helium,Words that escape the tongueAnd rise into the sky like smokeAnd vanish as we sleep, …
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Twiglet #156
CHILLED the winter fields are flat and cold snow clouds stretching long as banners Dad hated this time of year. He’d come home, and soak his feet in a dishpan of hot water and epson salts.. He was a postman. this weather rushes on us with its wild eyes ice pecking our face I always…
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The Wind Changed
1 July: The weather turned on Sunday. Saturday was hot. Sunday the wind changed, and the clouds rolled in. Then it rained. Heaven opened, and drowned us. THE WIND CHANGED ON SUNDAY I remember Sundays as sin-free. I’d put on my best dress. My best shiny black shoes. A bit of small change in my…
It's Still Life 