Category: Poetry
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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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Day 21 NovPAD
I. Deconstructing News It was not one of those glorious mornings where you sit on the terrace. A coffee. A view. A garden. Not a compact breakfast on a fine filigree table, ’cause newspapers blazed with war and decline, withdrawal and poverty and hunger, and I wondered how the world had fallen into such disarray,…
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Day 18: NovPAD
Headless Yesterday, I tried to repair a gnome. A cat, with a small gesture of its tail, knocked its head straight off, knocked the cuteness off its shoulders, and I’m useless with small scale, and besides, a gnome without a head is not much use at all. Day 18: write a good for nothing…
It's Still Life 