Category: Miz Q
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for Miz Quickly Random Sunday, (except it’s Monday)
A poem ending with a line from “Family Portrait” by Hafizah Geter That Wretched Wind Out of the North At first it was a flake here, then it was a flake there,falling like random thoughts, then camethat stinging scent of snow, anda smear of white clinging on the north faceof the…
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Miz Quickly’s Savour
A Long Music There are years in this hour,a life savoured for the eating. Rain is never spoilt by a shower,nor winter ruined by a blossom. This vine of life, this twisted light,is every mother’s long borne day. The dark and grow and low of it all.The dust and old and comfort of it all.…
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With a Proverbial Grain
The Prose of Romance with Miz Quickly I think Mum secretly wanted to travel, but since she didn’t know how to drive, she had to go where dad wanted to go, and usually, that was fishing, however, Mum dedicated Saturdays to the public library, and she always brought home a few books about travel, which…
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Miz Quickly’s Coup d’œil Owl
Coup d’œil there’s silver in my hair,the real me melted awayin a coup d’œil and just like that,another day went badly. my youth astray, awaywith a wink and a grinuntil it was all too late. for Miz Quickly’s Animal Prompt, Image: “The Owl” by Huang Yongyu © Misky 2021
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Miz Quickly’s Yellow
Her Long Finger Is . . . sunrise, a clawing light,trophy of grim and hardenedwarriors. Silent gold, a lightand stinging slash,a shot, a cut across a harlot’s skythat slaughters night. In her hand, tucked behindher back, she holdsnoisy heat. It rises with the multitudes,she throws her swordbehind the march of men.She is the long finger,the…
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for Miz Quickly’s American Dance #1
A Dance Into the Well Beyond We’ll dance over the sun,amongst the weeds and red dust, dance with the backdoor hangingon one hinge. We’ll dance light as a butterfly’s wing.Dance our way into a sunset’s throat. A beat on our senses,that drum-tap,plucked like a strut,skirts in a twirl,hand-fanning music,feet feathering the beat. We’ll dance amongst…
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Quadrille #117
Out of the Fog Comes the sun.it’s a clutch of warmth,a canopy suspendedover winter’s muscle.the sun abides in cheeks of roses,and on tensiled tailsof a comet.bright as a smile after sex.the horizon isNovember.licked and kickedby the sun. Miz Quickly’s Day 30 and dVerse Quadrille #117 “Abide” © Misky 2020
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24 November 2020
Haibun: Blown Home I remember the wind as grape-skin smooth as it flowed through the window. It lifted the voile panels — inhaling and exhaling time. The grandfather clock, I turned its key daily, and its oaked-box voice ticking solid and deep, geared-teeth grinding away at our eternity. That wind always came out of the…
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19 November 2020
That Tomato Red Chevy That car was work boots.Creaked like knees forcedinto bending at 6 in the morning,and rolled around cornerslike a tomato. It was windblownwith the windows rolled down.The bumper hung half off, clatteringas it sang wind chime songsto the pavement. Nothing ever happened in that carthat needed our confessing, but wewrapped around each…
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Miz Quickly’s Free Poem Kit
But Nevertheless This valley looks like a secretthat’s lost its key. Locked and left.There’s a river that can’t be seen,it’s dipped into the parched soil,not a spot of it to be seen fromwhere I am standing. But nevertheless, it is a riverbed, and I, too, might upand vanish. Do without myself.This landscape is where I…
It's Still Life 