Category: Poetry
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2603: Spring Thoughts
Blackthorn wearsits snow as spring,each blossoma small, white still. And the scent …oh, the scent sharp as grief,and sweet as memoryriding the same windthat carries the news. Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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2503: Spring Thoughts
Rain taps its small, persistent code: still here, still here, still here while the blanket pulls tighteraround myself. This is North returned asspring arrives on cold feet,learning to dance,and apologisingwith wet hands. Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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Witnesses
a collection of moments: nothing grand or forced. just soft, slightly askew truths of ordinary days — witnessed 24 March 2026: 07:05 Yes, this is the burdenYes, this is the blessing. To be the bridgebetween the blackbird’s throatand the world’s grey static. © MB 2026
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2303: The Liturgy
Liturgy for the Confluence(where two rivers meet and the world does not) I. The MeetingThey do not ask permission, these waters:the Saône, thick with silt,the Rhône, clear and urgent,driving south. At the narrow tip of landthey arrive still separate,dark and light,slow and swift, then lean togetherand go on. No treaty.No vow.Only force. II. The SurfaceFrom…
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2303: Spring Thoughts
The light turned blade-sharpagainst winter’s grey throat.Low sun,warm enoughfor blessing hanging sheets. Tonight we’ll sleep like linen,wind-wrung and sweet. Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman Delivers Wisdom in Small, Reusable Jars The old woman stirs her teawith a cinnamon stickthat once doubled as a wand,then tucks itinto her apron pocket,right beside a raisinthat gave up being lunch. She says philosophy can fiton the head of a pin,but you’ll have to squint. Rule 4. Be a blossom.Roots are…
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2103: Journal of SenHai
SenHai 44 Senryuwe built a crossingbut never asked if we’d returnthe same as we left Haikutimbers lost to mistno path completes what we begansilence spans the gap Written for SenHai Saturday. ©Misky 2006-2026.
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Witnesses
a collection of moments: nothing grand or forced. just soft, slightly askew truths of ordinary days — witnessed 21 March 2026, 07:34 I.a sparrow slipsinto the colour of barknothing left movingI look where it disappearedand cannot find it again. II.late morning lightwe stand where we can be seen,faces turned outward.Once, even we knew how todisappear…
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Witnesses
a collection of moments: nothing grand or forced. just soft, slightly askew truths of ordinary days — witnessed 20 March 2026, 09:17 I.a candle for hera candle for hima finger pressed in soil fertility in a seed sownon this day of bonfires. II.Ôstara morning light burns from our flames.warmth in the soilthe seed takes what…
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2003: Journal of Thoughts
El Capitan’s Lesson I came to you from the east,from Mono Lake’s dead and living watertangled with krilland seagulls by the million.A lake that does not know it’s dead. And the sun, that old familiar,washed your coarse-grain granitewith the same brightnessit has washed for hundreds of millions of years. Same colour. Same dip into darkness.Same.Again.Again.Centuries…
It's Still Life 