Category: Twiglets
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All That Effort for Nothing
All That Effort for Nothing I encountered a word this morning. Fauxcrastinating I have no idea what it means. It’s like one of those scratch-my-head double negatives, always leaves me thinking, Huh? And the same goes for adding up negative numbers. Even worse, subtracting them. Negatives, shouldn’t be allowed, and double negatives, they’re a virus.…
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for Twiglet #144
Two Thoughts on the Anniversary of My Mother’s Birthday Her broken whispers were so close to earth that I imagined bluebells. I gave her flowers as she rode into the stars. Couldn’t help smiling. Two American Sentences of 17-syllables each. dVerse OLN. For Twiglet #144 Rest easy Mum. ©️ Misky 2019
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Twiglet #141
Biting Roots The weight of light is on my shoulders, this foreign land from where I came. Pale cliffs and alien air. This is where I am. for Twiglets #141 “Questionable Ancestry” ©️ Misky 2019
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Twiglet #139 & #140
…in a field of salty brown wheat you stand you wish your heart was as open as this mile wide view Twiglet #139 and #140 and dVerse “Smoke and Mirrors” ©️ Misky 2019
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Once Upon 200 Moons
Once Upon 200 Moons it’s all to play for, Boris, kipper-brandishing, from a farm in Somerset. He will love bomb us with hanging baskets, and milkshake tax plans, turn on the spending taps on the hottest day ever recorded, and find Amelia Earhart. Truth is an art. This is a Found poem constructed…
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for Twiglet 134 & Miz Quickly
Room 100.1 I knock on the door and enter a cramped, stale room, an office desk centred, the sun burning through the window. Summer heat can annoy the best of us. A heavy set man rises from the desk, his shadow fills the space where I stand — Hello, I say. I try to sound…
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Miz Quickly’s Triplets
Sometimes the Sun Shines This is not paradise – it just rained, the humidity is on the rise, again. An ascension. It’s not a great saviour. I miss hummingbirds. Seagulls, that’s all we have. A few blue tits. Don’t forget slugs – it’s the rain, again. Clear. Warm. Clouds of true white silk. The beech…
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dVerse Observations
SHELLING PEAS The monotony of midday summer heat flattens my thoughts. Spreads them thin. I take a sip from a tall glass, ice cubes clink and ring like wind chimes. The sky is the colour of Dad’s blue eyes, and I’m not going anywhere today. My back, up against the sun. It’s sticky sweet on…
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for Twiglet #126
We’re On the Old Road to Spokane I’m 10. It’s a Saturday morning. Early. Before the worst of the heat sets in, and turns the I-90 into peanut butter. By noon, the road shines like ice. Dad says it’s a mirage. I say it’s water. Mom says she has a sick headache. My sister’s sitting…
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for dVerse Quadrille and Twiglet #125
Don’t Recall His Name But I Remember Him. Up there, sitting on the school bleachers, king of it all, lean as James Dean slipped in-between day dreams. Him, buttoned into blue jeans, tight white t-shirt, and hair slick as a snail’s streak. He didn’t see me wearing my pink poodle skirt. for dVerse…
It's Still Life 