Category: music
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0409: Stick of Butter
Stick of Butter when I was ten, maybe nine, but certainly no younger because we were living in the house where we lived the longest, and my bedroom window emptied its view straight into the yew tree and the park beyond, so I must’ve been ten … or nine … anyway, I spent the night…
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0209: Journal of Thoughts
If There Were No Love if there were no loveI would still let summer’s last secretfind my face. just for the love of it to watch the lift and fallof leaves giving themselvesto the breeze, and if I believethey are hope,then they are. I once knew a manwho said, “I will die in a countrywhere…
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0109: Dead Men Don’t Drown
Dead Men Don’t Drown: Episode #4 (catch-up with all episodes here) No. 4, Dead Men Don’t Drown: The Antique Shop on Rope Walk I walk into town for bread, milk and a box of wooden matches for the coal fire; inheriting a cottage means inheriting an endless list of small errands. Halfway home, a fleck…
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3008: cí pái Lyric Poetry
The Sunflower The Old Woman’s patient hands,tie sunflowers weakened by wind.Crow perched on the fence,greedy for seeds soon his, while Cat, superior in disdain,‘Such fuss for fading gold’,he thinks, ‘this laboured strainfor what autumn can’t hold.’ Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is my own work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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2608: Journal of Thoughts
Before the Bleaching mortality’s breathis in your salt-bleached bones whiteas inevitability something took you here a grip at the sinewed neckperhaps pressurewhere breath should pass the body knowswhen it is being ended the air may have smelledof metal the sky may have been blueor perhaps you blinkedagainst the rain none of thisis for the telling…
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2508: Protesting Quadrilles
Two Protesting Quadrilles I.she is one among a hundredsandaled feet,leather slappinglate-August streets. heat risesto regimented metre,chanting voices,summer-tanned skin. the street becomesa wilderness of protest,placards ticking,senses wiredto explosion. police draw a line.skin presses skin. paniccrosses it. II.she came with sandals,August skin,a placard.nothing more. then protest foundits marching metre: slap of leather,chant and answer,heat risingfrom a hundred…
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2508: Six Sentence Poem
They Left This morning four beeslay quietlyon the patio stones. not sleeping. the sunhad simply askedtoo much of them. I carried each oneto the shade, where lavenderstill remembersword for word,their names. I’d rather believethey’ve gone somewhere cooler,where foxglovesnever wilt, and cloverkeeps flowering. somewherewhere no beeneed choosebetween thirstand sunlight. Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story Poetry…
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A Six: The Law of Finders
This “Framed Poem” is written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story, Poetry Slam on 27 August I had been content to sit and listen as one poet after another stepped into the small pool of light, when the woman at the microphone looked directly at me, smiled as though we had already shared some confidence, and…
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Six Sentence Café Announcement
Poetry Slam: 27 August, Thursday Six Sentence Café & Bistro Poetry Slam I occasionally look back and wonder how thoroughly a life ties itself to loved ones, children, occupations, old enthusiasms and memories so stubborn that even time, for all its practice, cannot quite rub out. My ink appears to know this better than I…
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2208: Journal of SenHai
The Overview Effect I.all our little warsEarth hangs blue in the darknessof cold indifference. grey moon, ancient cold,a blue world caught like amber,somewhere it is spring II.Grey stone, endless dustthen that blue, rising, unmaskeda gift we did not earn Monochrome holds stilla blue arc breaks the silencethe void almost blinks Senryu and Haiku poems ©Misky…
