Category: Poetic Forms
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Poetic Form: Ryūka
In the Groove A beat in her ears A spring in her walk She played songs over and over until the groove wore smooth PB’s Japanese Form: Ryūka 5,5,8,6 and Poetic Aside #502 ©️ Misky 2019
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Quadrille #89
The Sun Upon Us You rise in defiance of darkness, seize tight the sky. Draw oak’s twisted sinew limbs, and glitter clouds with dreams. Life labours below your gaze while casting constant flame. We blossom in your rise, and flee your thorny light — but marvel as you set. 4 dVerse Quadrille #89…
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for Twiglet #144
Two Thoughts on the Anniversary of My Mother’s Birthday Her broken whispers were so close to earth that I imagined bluebells. I gave her flowers as she rode into the stars. Couldn’t help smiling. Two American Sentences of 17-syllables each. dVerse OLN. For Twiglet #144 Rest easy Mum. ©️ Misky 2019
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for dVerse Quadrille
Tasseomancy I. In a teacup where leaves twirl a dervish in golden fluid of circular skirts, rolling and roiling from a devotional pot of clay deeply red from where life began evergreen, and fortunes foretold from depths of bone china, tranquil tea. A gypsy’s fortune told. II. In a teacup where leaves twirl a dervish…
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Found Simple
SIMPLE And no, for anyone wondering, I left out things which haven’t been … left out. Things not included. For example – freshness. And the fridge. Getting ice cream rolled on your thigh, well, a chicken then. O’ joy – a crazy-person for supper. That being said, you might as well be a lazy cook,…
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6 August 2019
Cows under the oak tree Grass cool as a spring day It feels like Sunday ©️ Misky 2019 – Poetic form: Ginsberg’s American Sentence (17-syllables)
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for Miz Quickly: 26 July
Autopsy on an Ice Cube It’s like Welsh-noir with twists and turns Or fireworks and magic within an ice cube. But now I hear that the Arctic is on fire. Time to put the kettle on. Read tea leaves. 26 July: This for Miz Quickly’s “Yes/But” poem form, which I’ve probably mucked…
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dVerse Quadrille #83
HERE COMES THE SUN All this white before my eyes, this clear clot above the sky. Heat rolls in, warms the cold bones of morning. It massages its salve in me, a weightless shadowed flicker. Morning believes in its own dreams, and it whispers… Here comes the sun. for dVerse Quadrille #83 “Sun”…
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Georgics: Miz Q’s Day 9
The Return We knocked down the old wooden greenhouse. Rot pressing through it. Weather beaten, grey, and the soil bare. Behind it grew an apple tree, though never yielding but a leaf, and so it too was cut to ground. Five years on, the apple tree returned to growth, pigmy-small and full of leaf. We…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 29: Magpie
Magpie I’m sitting on a limb, watching a man reading a newspaper. From way up here I have a wide view of Sunday. North a few blocks, and ten miles south to the coast. The man reading the newspaper wears a gold ring. It’s sunshine-bright. I want that ring. for Miz Quickly’s Day…
It's Still Life 