Category: music
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20.11: Journal of Thoughts
The Truth about Grey (Accentual Verse) This is no cleansingcold of the year.This is winter’s rot,and rain that dulls. The air tastes sourwith giving-up things;death’s slow handlaid on the shoulder. Colour drains out:stone’s grey remains,black bark dripping,green worn to bruise. Even the lightis tired cloth,a faded sheetthrown over days. This is Bleak.I breathe it in.I…
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18.11: dVerse Quadrille
The Internet Is Down Again Come on, you sulking hulk,we coax you from the dark,we whisper to your routers,and promise you the clouds.Rise now, little lights,shake off your grumpy moody gloom.The world waits, half-breathing,for your bright return.Come on, Cloudflare, wake up! Written for dVerse Poets, Quadrille (44 words) “coax”. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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18.11: At the Intersection of Odd Numbers
A Black That Remembers Brigid had the office door painted Vantablack; she loved this colour, it was so dark it erased everything but consequence. Customers slowed in caution as they passed it, uncertain whether it was a surface or a hole; the crow croaked “wormhole” at it endlessly, and Pierre swore he heard a slow,…
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15.11: Journal of Thoughts
Senryu we left the lights onas if love might lose its wayin all that silence Haiku fir trees heavy-limbed,footsteps vanish into duskone warm room remains Written for SenHai Saturday. Poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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13.11: Journal of Thoughts
River Reflections trees bow toward their sleeping echoes;the bridge repeats itself in hush;the water holds two heavens at once. — three-line jueju in English winter river stills—trees and bridge breathe twice in glass,sky drifts underneath. — haiku Written for Ink In Thirds “Reflections” ©Misky 2006-2025.
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12.11: dVerse Prosery
The Coming I stirred the embers with a bone-handled spoon, watching the light ebb from the fields. The year was thinning; even the crows sounded hollow. Yet I smiled, for then and not yesterday, I learned to know the love of bare November days before the coming of the snow. It was a respect without…
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11.11: At the Intersection of Odd Numbers
A Way In The door had always been red — not bright, not cherry, but the dull rust of dried blood and arm-folded resolve. Brigid pressed her palm against it, feeling the wood grain beneath the scabs of paint, crusty layers that reminded her of scraped knees, sun-hot pavement, blood blooming through grit … and…
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8.11: Journal of Thoughts
when beauty touches bone Senryu sunset spills its firewe talk of dreams in silenceas if time were ours Haiku dune shadows deepenthe desert holds winter lightlike an old secret Written for I Write Her’s SenHai Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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3.11: At the Intersection of Odd Numbers
At the Intersection of Odd Numbers: A New Beginning (Parts 1 & 2) Brigid’s back in the city, mop in hand, crow in tow, and at the intersection of odd numbers, the door to something new just creaked open. (A Six Sentence Story — Prompt: “cross”) A Mop and Bucket (Part 1) Brigid coaxes the…
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1.11: Journal of Thoughts
Senryu (for the lonely, human truth) One tree stands its ground—the sun abandons the field,taking all the warmth. Haiku (for the timeless, natural scene) A lone tree’s shadowclimbs the mountain as the sunbows out, cold and gold. Written for SenHai #24 based on the featured image. Poems/prose and some images are ©Misky 2006-2025.
It's Still Life 