Category: music
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2603: Spring Thoughts
Blackthorn wearsits snow as spring,each blossoma small, white still. And the scent …oh, the scent sharp as grief,and sweet as memoryriding the same windthat carries the news. Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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2503: Spring Thoughts
Rain taps its small, persistent code: still here, still here, still here while the blanket pulls tighteraround myself. This is North returned asspring arrives on cold feet,learning to dance,and apologisingwith wet hands. Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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2403: Six Sentence Story
Presqu’île: Where the Rivers Decide Brigid’s Diary, Episode 05: March 1834 Presqu’île narrowed beneath our feet like a blade, and the city balanced on it; north behind us, south ahead — and my thoughts still full of noises that would not stop. At the waterline a pale seam of silt and foam kept writing and…
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2303: Spring Thoughts
The light turned blade-sharpagainst winter’s grey throat.Low sun,warm enoughfor blessing hanging sheets. Tonight we’ll sleep like linen,wind-wrung and sweet. Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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2103: Journal of SenHai
SenHai 44 Senryuwe built a crossingbut never asked if we’d returnthe same as we left Haikutimbers lost to mistno path completes what we begansilence spans the gap Written for SenHai Saturday. ©Misky 2006-2026.
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2003: Journal of Thoughts
El Capitan’s Lesson I came to you from the east,from Mono Lake’s dead and living watertangled with krilland seagulls by the million.A lake that does not know it’s dead. And the sun, that old familiar,washed your coarse-grain granitewith the same brightnessit has washed for hundreds of millions of years. Same colour. Same dip into darkness.Same.Again.Again.Centuries…
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1603: Six Sentence Story
Brigid’s Diary, 1834, What the River Knows Episode III – Lyon, The Confluence At the meeting of the Saône and the Rhône rivers, the surface agreed while the bodies argued, currents swinging between quarrel and agreement, each teaching the other a deeper way to move. It spoke without lifting its voice, smooth as glass where…
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1603: Journal of SenHai
Senryucenturies watchingstill the mountain greets the sunas if the first time Haikufirst light on granitenight loosens its quiet gripthe valley exhales Written for SenHai Saturday #43. ©Misky 2006-2026.
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1403: Spring Thoughts
The blues bow their heads.The yellows shiver.Purple crocuses tighten. They do not know the wind is turning,do not feel North’s cold bladeat their throat. “Of course they don’t know,”says the crow from his bare March branch,“they believe in tomorrow.That’s what makes them flowers.” Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own…
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1303: Journal of Thoughts
The House Learns Its Tune Decades I’ve lived here,and only now do I hear it when the wind comes off the sea,south by southwest,my house sings. The gales are no destroyers.They are fingerson the roof tiles,a hand at the chimes.Each slate, a note.Each ridge, a phrase held long. Gusts draw themselvesover the windowsills,thin lips to…
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