Category: Twiglets
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for dVerse & Twiglet #176
Two Views from the woods from the lake that was the view from her bed. she woke with savaged hair and a thumping head, the sun was a knife in her blue fire eyes. and the trees from the woods by the lake with a view of her bed laughed at what she did all…
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14 May Visual Verse on Instagram
Like a Winter’s Tree Oh how time tramples your bones into shivering limbs; a bare tree of winter. for Visual Verse on Instagram and Twiglet #176 ©️ Misky 2020
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Twiglet #174
He Wants a Circular Drive But I want a drive that disappears from sight. Off to the left, as if ones departure was never part of the plan. Twiglet #174 “through iron gates” ©️ Misky 2020 It’s Poem a Day month. These are all 1st drafts.
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for Twiglet #167
Say What? You say, the language of rain babbles against the windowpane, and that language is mad on fizz and wine, and that some words are simple eyes. And sometimes I don’t understand what you say. for Twiglet #167. “Won’t Translate” ©️ Misky 2020 image from unSplash CC:00
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Twiglet #164
A Light Remix If I were morning light, I’d slip through slatted blinds and flood across someone’s bedroom floor, and eke myself between messy bedsheets and quick hands and crushed perfume, and be sprawling as pleasure, and not like a closed-leg sunset, clumsy with its all-thumbs-jumped-up fire. Twiglet #164 “All Thumbs” ©️ Misky…
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Twiglet #161
The Night Train As if at war with the stars, it’s speeding black, a blurred red strip line. Picks at the tracks, swallows them whole, and then picks its teeth with bright steel ties. Darkens sunlight, it does, always, always, shuddering away, and breaking the night with its skinny whistle moan. Twiglet #161…
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Twiglet #156
CHILLED the winter fields are flat and cold snow clouds stretching long as banners Dad hated this time of year. He’d come home, and soak his feet in a dishpan of hot water and epson salts.. He was a postman. this weather rushes on us with its wild eyes ice pecking our face I always…
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for Twiglet #155
A Study in Geometry Reigning on Picnics I arranged myself on that rickety old three legged stool, my feet rooted on the ground for balance, my knees pressed together for geometry, and on my lap I propped a paper plate with Heinz baked beans bleeding into my hotdog bun. ©️ Misky 2019 Twiglet…
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Day 26 & 27
Dear Diary. Yesterday two opposing lows one called Hector, the other Storm #7, blew into the garden. Kicked up leaves as if it were child’s play, and before leaving, knocked down the neighbour’s wood slat fence. I think Alison’s gutters are blocked with leaves. There’s a waterfall spilling off the back of her house. And…
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for Twiglet 151
for Twiglet #151 “Block of Text“, Found poetry from “The Book of Questions” by Pablo Neruda. ©️ Misky 2019
It's Still Life 