Category: Twiglets
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For Twiglet #278
Full of Light We sat under the cherry tree,lost in its leaves, lost in green,our fingers stained ruby. Fill 2 bowls for a pie, Mum said. Those days, layered between clouds,it was a time to embrace. It wasas it should be. Full of light. for Twiglet #278 ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting […]
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Twiglet #273 Across the Sky
Frost Writes a Cloudless Sky It’s a cloudless day. Frosted white.The apple tree’s still threadbare.As if I’ll remember that. The plate slipped from my hand,my eyes filled with time, as ifto stall, then fall, but I was too slow.It hit the floor. I wrapped the pieces in broadsheets,Sunday Times, as if time mendsa break, or […]
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25.03.22: Twiglet #271
Up There on a tangle-thread-limbsits a crow,an eye on its next meal,a ratweaving between traffic. for Twiglet #271 Tangled Thread. Photo by Alexander Sinn on Unsplash. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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for Twiglet #266
Her Godbone What we believeis what we want to believe.Like my sister says a white dove flew over her carwhile she waitedin a queue for the ferry. That was the day Dad died.It was Dad, she said, but she mournedhim even before he was dead. She has a locket with his ashes,and a small silver […]
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11.02.22: Twiglet #265
The Moon was never meantto take the night alone. Stars drift through the shallowsof its black plate, and the air soft as the back of thighs,and dark as a square of night. And the moonturned its face away, and stared deep into earth’s mirrored water,waves turning like pages. For Twiglet #265 “turning pages””. WikiArt Image: Noekken, 1904, by […]
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Twiglet #264
A Still Life of a Winter’s Night The fireplace is lit, its flamedancing with the surfaceof the window. A candlestiff and still on the table, with the last heel from a loaf,dried onions and cheesewith a sip of sweet wine. No need to whisper thatthe cupboard is bare, orthat the empty knocking isnot the beat […]
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31.1.22 Pseudo Analytical
Pseudo Analytical I.I know a woman with a dusty atticof a mind. She picks apart her past. It’s like she carries Freud’s couchwith her wherever she goes, and she is best described asthat moment when dawn is lost. When doors go shutting.When pigeons bubble sounds. And I am her bag of spare parts. II.I dream […]
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22.1.22: Herniated Disks and Other Mischiefs
To Hell ‘n Back It’s a herniated disk, you see. Nope, I didn’t do a thing. It just happened. Sitting on a chair, eating dinner. Then pop. And I can’t sleep. I’m trying not to move. Every twitch, stabs. And I notice that the street light licks the bedroom wall a silent grey, a smeared […]
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For Twiglets #259: Cool Blue
All Those Blues There were tracesof blue all over her. Secretly blue.Iced blue. And on warm daysshe was chilled blue. Out-of-the-blueghostly blue. Even her shadowwas blue from cold. for Twiglet’s #259 Cool Blue. Needy Woman in Cold by Morteza Katouzian (Fair Use) WikiArt.
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For Twiglet #256
Rhythm of the Night Isn’t About Poetry The night is ringingin my ears. Light leakingthrough the blinds likepinpricked stars. Those stars laughing at an owlon some nearby treeswallowing its vowels. And I’m awake again.So I write something,fall asleep, wake up again,and write something. For Twiglets #256 “Awake Again”. Photo by Todd Steitle and AJ Jean on Unsplash. Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter […]
It's Still Life 