Category: Poetry
-
16 May: dVerse Lists
A List Poem in Two Minutes columbine,iris, yellow,blue, the birdbaththe same colour. the pots are too. thistles,foxgloves, a cuckoosinging a kettle’s song. hammer,nails, a ladder long, scaffold rails, and the dayrolls on. Written for Björn’s dVerse Poets prompt to create a list poem. Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is authentically my own original…
-
15 May: Journal of SenHai
Mist Water and Wood Senryuhalfway to somewherethe stairs decide to lingerwith the quiet tide Haikumonochrome waterempty steps descend through mistsilence holds the rail Written for SenHai Saturday #51. I am playing catch-up as I was away when the image prompt was posted. Violet’s post reminded me that I’d forgotten this one. Not all images are…
-
15 May: Journal of Thoughts
The Weather of Me hail on the roof,wind worrying the trees, leaves torn loosewithout apology, and I rememberhow I walked. never the easy path. always the onethat cut,that asked,that took its duein small relentless ways. I would still choose it now, quickly, and wear its lessonslike a dare. it made a weather of me that…
-
14 May: Journal of Thoughts
Day 2: The Neighbour’s Window Installation branches,leaves rollinglike waves in the wind. quarter past 8. Carol’s already beenwith her trayof steaming mugs. the workmen’s vanblocks my driveway. raindrops. “told you so,”says the young guywho’s not the youngest. “rain and ladders,bad mix, mate.” I close the front door behind me. “can I borrow your van, boys?”eh…
-
13 May: Journal of Thoughts
The Neighbour’s Window Installation (or how to snoop and call it poetry) scaffolding bolted. Carol brings outa tray of steaming mugs,labels swinging on thread,teabags left in. builder’s tea. half past eight. “over there,”a man points. he’s dressedfor chilly mornings,his breath clouding the air. a young guy carrieswindow framestwo panes each — says nothing,paces slowlyback to…
-
1105: The Liturgy
Episode 10: Liturgy for the Saturday Market Valence, 1836: Where hunger measures every stranger I. The Root The people of Valenceare rooted in hunger — missed meals,children whose ribslearn to count themselvesbefore they learn their letters. This hunger speaks.And calculates. Every loafa fraction.Every coina remainder.Every strangera divisor in an equationalready too tight. Hunger empties the…
-
The Old Woman With No Cat
The St Malo Sardine Incident(Or: A Feline Foreign Policy) The Old Woman stands at the counter in St. Malo,a case of sardines in lemony oiltucked under her arm,her wallet slightly lighter,her heart slightly french. The shopkeeper smiles.“A good choice, madame. For a special occasion?” She thinks of the cat,not hers, never hers,waiting on the windowsill,tail…
-
6 May: dVerse Quadrille
Forty-Four Blooming Words a populationof self-seeded daisieson French verges. common,persistent,blooming anyway. no gardener names them,no border holds them;they take what is given. small faces turnto passing cars,white as breath,bright as forgetting, rooted where chancedecidedbeauty isenough. Written for dVerse Poets’ Quadrille: bloom ©Misky 2006-2026.
-
5 May: Journal of Thoughts
The Captain A child sinks a shipwithout hesitation. The crew must be saved.The story requires it. The captain goes downwith quiet agreement; no trial,no question,no second thought. It is not cruelty. It is order in a child’s mind. A hand lifts survivorsfrom the water,sets them safely asideon the bathtub’s rim. The rest is allowedto disappear.…
-
The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat’s Nocturnal Quest (Or: a brief romance in three acts) ACT I: THE EXIT“Don’t wait up, old woman,” he purrs,tail held high like a banner of mischief.“I have… errands.Of a personal nature.Involves a wicked womanand a well-stocked pantry.” ACT II: THE RETURNDawn finds him back on the windowsill,whiskers tipped with cream,a single sardine tin…
It's Still Life 