Category: Poetic Forms
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4 September: Let the Clouds In
Let the Clouds In (working version) I. Sticky air and pinprick rain on my arms. Open the window, and let the clouds in. II. Sticky air and pinprick rain. Open the windows, and let the clouds in. Poem form: 16 words (1.2.3.4.5.1) and couplets ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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1 Sept: Jane’s Oracle #3
An American Sentence: 17 syllables. The jaded sweltering heat that marched through August has brought us apples. Jane’s Oracle spoke her words: jaded; sweltering; heat (which turned out to be heal); and march. The full list of words are at Jane’s. I believe the Oracle has finished talking to me this week. Poem form: an American sentence consisting of…
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30 August: dVerse Shelter
Storms in a Teacup There was all that thunder, it left the air tight as a strange brew of poison. I pour ginger tea in a shallow cup, my head is not mine, it thumps, and I open the window. Lilac-coolness fills morning’s voice with construction down the street and the rhythm of a lawn…
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30 August: An Elevenie Poem
Falling Tonightthe starsare salty. Fallingdry and hard aspennies that won’t quench theearth. An elevenie poem: 1.2.3.4.5.1 Image from Unsplash. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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28 August: Inside a Dream
A Spark Byfreezing tempest,passion storms. Blazingat beginnings, middles, ends.Its embrace will see usblossoming. For dVerse Poets, an elevenie-acrostic-type poem, each line starting with the words from the phrase “by freezing passion at its blossoming” from Neil Carpathios’s The Kiss. Image is from Unsplash. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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19 August: White-Out Erasure
A Confession to Water The rising and falling, reflux of water, like a cataract in the abyss and idle in itself. I confessed to the thunder. Look now, said the old man. Source: “The Portable Edgar Allen Poe,” Introduction page. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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18 August: dVerse Elements
The Elements I. Earth earthflung itswind at twistedbare trees. they creakedunder the bone bleached whitemoon. II. Water riserippling floodsand set sailon summer-heavy tides whilefires burnt the edge ofsleep. III. Fire lightningdoes dance,like high kickingskirt swirling puppets, theirwooden shoes raucous with Thor’sthunder. IV. Air wind,that gallopingdance that ranwith summer, singing choruseswith tolling bells, a billowingroar. Written…
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17 Aug: Almost Always
Almost Always It’s autumn. Farmers move bales of hay on the county lanes, and almost always a bale falls free, unravels, dusty debris in the air, catching on brambles, thistles, and twiggy rib-caged hedgerows… and as it happens, you’ll regret not taking the motorway with its thick-as-bees morning traffic, because now you’re stuck behind a…
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15 Aug: Prose #FFFC
Another Song A passer-by offers confetti cubes of stale bread, casually thrown into the thicket of wings, and the air is trampled. What does it mean, all that hysterical noise that shakes the air, those elbow wings cutting sunlight, and enfolding space. Birdsong echoes against the clouds. Shrieks that cling as if by claw. Its…
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15 Aug: Short Verses from the Garden
Cat’ssat inthe shady laurelwatching birds perched stillas nails on the drybirdbath. Poem form: Elevenie. Photo by Sparks Johnson on Unsplash. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
It's Still Life 