Category: music
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0407: Journal of SenHai
Nature Never Apologises Senryuthe quiet hillsidesomeone had to say somethingin brilliant red Haikubefore the rain comesthe hillside lights its lanterns …scarlet aloe Written for Susi’s SenHai Saturday . Image from Unsplash. Poetry and prose ©Misky 2006-2026.
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0407: Violet’s Phraseology
A Persistent Syllable not overnight,not immediate,gradual,like a shadow’s slow wrap around a flagpole,like the tap’s persistent syllablecounting out moments. No more today, she says,and closes her book,as if a page holds a boundaryagainst the drip,the drift,the soft unravelof sight. Would you mind, love,chopping the onions?I don’t thinkI should. All the words we hear.All the sounds…
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0207: Brigid’s Diary – A Six
The Epilogue: A Return to Thyme Brigid and Felreil left Room 215 as they had entered it, by the hidden closet, with the good sense not to ask whether one century had finished or merely misplaced them in someone else’s plan. The bellhop-automaton raised a final card, though neither of them paused to read it;…
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0207: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: Over The Mole sun rises.tops the trees.crow on a branch. squirrel runsthe fence length,cheeks fullof autumn. rose buds yesterday.opened today. hard to knowif that’s pinkor peach. I heardthere’s a boy, ten, — perhaps hangingover the stream. school childrenfound him — from the footbridgeover the streamthat disappearsundergroundnot far from here. the onewe locals…
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0107: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: Stream of Consciousness (Peak) Early spring.Snow still holding the peaks.I walk into crisp mountain air and there it is again. Ozone.Thin air seems to gather it. Sharp.Metallic.The scent of lightning. Like being a curious child and wondering what a penny tasted like. I found out.Not with my tongue,but somewhere behind my eyes,where…
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3006: Brigid’s Diary – Two Sixes
Part 15 & 16: 1842, Cagnes-sur-Mer, France (Brigid’s Diary, Winter: 1842: one year on) Where is Felreil?That’s what I want to know. Where is he in his black frock coat, moving as if Boreas lived in its pockets, striding streets and alleys in long English-blackened boots, as though Provence’s glossy night had always been part…
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2906: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: San Francisco Earthquake 1989World Series.Baseball.Late afternoon. It starts with the soundof a heavy lorrydriving by. Lorries never droveon our little narrow lane. Eucalyptus hanging low.Potholed dusty track.Watch for falling rock. Then waves.In the pool. Washed upand over the lawn. The birdsstopped singing. A friend refusedto go backinto her house. Cooked outside.Bathed outside.She…
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2706: Journal of SenHai (updated)
Heatwave Poetry Senryu each hill wears a hushas if the cold remembersa lullaby’s name Haiku Snow piles in the dawn shadows shift, a long, low hum;world pauses, hearing … and because my ink refuses to put a lid on it … so to speak … I. snow keeps no footprintsuntil someone needs a path II.…
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2706: dVerse Ars Poetica
Ars Poetica: The Yew This is a tree.But this is not about the tree,and it’s not about that summer,or the forest behind our house,or the Japanese maplethat Dad naileda birdhouse on. Nails.Crucified.Like Jesus. I called itthe Jesus Treeafter that. And it’s not aboutthe huckleberriesI ate before chasingsomething. Something — I can’t recall what. Always runningbeneath…
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2606: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: The One Busted for Drugs Pollen is thick as midgeson a loch, a leaf blowerand the windscreenis clear. Bless their obnoxious noise. Coupon in my pocket. Spend £60,get £20 off.£60 is easy. Meat, more meatand maybe a chicken. Pallets in the aisle. Shopping trolleys stop,turn,batter one another. No milk.No lettuce.No beans.Green cabbage…
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