Category: Poetry
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The Sun Rises in the East
And Still the Sun Rises in the East Dawn is a splatter of light. Jackdaws chatter in the trees. A robin pulls at a worm. The worm tugs back. Dawn. She yawns and stretches, and that’s when a girl, her house, and her little dog too, fell down from the sky. The house swallowed her…
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A Dedication to Clever Fingers
A Dedication to Clever Fingers My mother had very clever fingers. Our family tree’s leafy with cleverness. They made things. Lots of useful things. They know stuff. Lots of useful stuff. And, my sister with her pink alabaster skin says our Grandma told her a secret — don’t soap your face; use mineral oil. I…
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Stuff on Stuff
Stuff on Stuff (it’s true: nothing rhymes with orange) Reached in my pocket, in need of a hanky, and found in the seamed rough a bit of carpet fluff, some sand and stuff and there amongst lint and wisps of dog hair and a core from a pear, was an orange lozenge that I have…
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#2: “Leaves on Water”
I’ve forgotten the sound of my father’s voice. Gone, with leaves on water. Poem form: Ginsberg’s American Sentence of 17-syllables. 4 Miss B. ©️ Misky 2019
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#8: Dali
From the Frying Pan I cracked an egg into a frying pan. A big ol’ eyeball stared back at me. I blinked.Yes, it was just a yolk. How very Dalicious. for b. Edited Dali image from WikiArt. ©️ Misky 2019
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About Those Falling Stars
When the First Star Fell … the clouds fled. That lone star, that fell. So free. A splash and then its ripple came, and the sea was quieted by the night. Shining starlight was its special gift. And no one knew — in the dark the sun exists. written for PB’s “create a…
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dVerse Inspired by Art
Our Seeds we are autumn we are root and stem here, from where we’ve come a branch a limb our seeds grown will leave as they branch and seed will root to stem and so we are and so we shall. for dVerse “Inspired by Art by Beverly Dyer“. Image “Autumn Collection” by…
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1 September 2019
Originally posted on The Journal: A RETURN TO SOCKS it’s morning, and I hear the train down in the valley. no clickety-clack or pull from a long whistle. we’re electrified. it’s the sound of speed slicing air that I hear, morning, noon, and night, until my ears hummm with sleep. fill with the sounds of…
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Twiglet #141
Biting Roots The weight of light is on my shoulders, this foreign land from where I came. Pale cliffs and alien air. This is where I am. for Twiglets #141 “Questionable Ancestry” ©️ 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…
It's Still Life 