Category: Poetry
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for Ink In Thirds – TLT
Descent into a Very Short Story There, alone in our moonsnatch valley it’s picture-perfect, be it on canvas, where rain falls, liquid as cruel sighs. for Three Line Thursday, three lines max 10 syllables per line. The word this week is “Alone”. Image is from Unsplash by Peter Hammer.
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09.02.18
A Siege of Shadows Over my shoulder, a forever glance. I’m a long eclipse across my shadow. A millstone cloud, a blame of feelings. A shadow’s breath with happy noises. I understand randomness more than I understand myself. Gentle thief of solitude, I feel your kinship. I don’t blame your morning to night changeability. We […]
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for Three Line Thursday
For Three Line Thursday: “Vinyl”. Constraint: 17 words Over-Easy I. She sways to songs, sheets of sound, pendulum swings, vinyl round, heels tap as her handbag swings. II. Saw a mummy in a foetal curl, skin like vinyl Naugahyde, the colour of my leather sofa.
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Twiglet #62
A Disquiet The air is disquiet, and I’m cut short by my own apostrophes. It’s a temper of my own making. Pages torn, words ripped, drawn, quartered and dying, and rising like saints toward heaven. My head is full of their noise. For Twiglet #62 “Air Full of Sound” Image is from Unsplash.
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Three Line Thursday #2
Unbridled We close doors against it. Wind. Barnstorming shadows of unsteady oaks. It blows by north, right through us, moans and utters, and sets bedsheets free into nature’s curl. Three Line Thursday: fly free
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for Three Line Thursday
Fall I saw it, those thunder lines on your face. Time to leave, and believe, I’d cut the chain. But I fell. Not for you but like rain. written for Three Line Thursday
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Poetic Asides: “Sick”
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dVerse Quadrille #48
On the Cobbles My sights are set on steep roads, sun-baked and wheel- worn cobbled ways. I am aimless through high forests of mist, undercover of desert- spawning sky, broad and wandered by reluctant heroes. I’ve no fear chasing the unknown; eventually, I will always bounce back. dVerse Quadrille #48 “bounce” (44 words). […]
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Haibun 8.1.18
I looked it in the eye, that moon. It’s the colour of steaming milk, perfectly dropped in a dark joyful void — perfect for blind sleep — for someone who can. But not for me, I’m fixed on this constellation view, watching a winter moon swallow the sky. Night’s freckles shining Mistook those bright stars […]
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Wordle #329
A Hint of Siberia Without Producing a Passport Sub-zero wind is a hard nudge An assault A deep breath feels like your last It dropped into minuses overnight Blizzardy snow and icicles hanging hard as Sheffield Loose teeth aiming to fall And there goes the wind again Against the house a bashing steel bar at […]
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