Category: Visual Verse
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for May V’Verse
Ophiuchus It’s not quite a nightmare,more like the scariestpart of a funfair. And there’s a snake, namedafter a far away constellation,that moves in and out ofthe measurement of Pi. And that snake’s all smilesand black kettle eyes,and it slings off its lightninglike some ancient ode. And while you’re riding itsshoulder blades into blizzards,you raise up your…
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Featured on Visual Verse
I am honoured to be one of three featured writers/poets to lead off Visual Verse’s April issue. To paraphrase their guidelines, Visual Verse offers the chance of writing without overthinking. Words inspired by art. Write 50-500 words within an hour. It’s worth reading the guidelines before submitting your work for the Visual Verse team to…
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For VV’s March Image Prompt
Winter’s in the Sky Winter sleeps in the sky. Up there,a frozen swamp. A shock of wet. It douses summer leaves and doesstrange things. It can send a bitterchill in July, act odd as a full moon. It’ll leave you standing on a street,condemned to shivering in June. Winter doesn’t seems to grow old.Summer does…
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for VV February 2021
I Am Adrift … And just want to un-write what was just sent, and thinking,Isn’t there an I-take-it-back emoji. Andwhere’s the Undo? Oh, if pigs, all pink andsquealing could fly, we’d all be in the clouds. Hiding. Funny, how silence can be a flared-throat.Hissing.How it can throw you off a cliff. Silence,and her mystery was…
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For VV January 2021
It Always Smells Like Rain Here I remember Mum always read mebedtime stories. My favourite wasabout teddy bears and a picnic. But this story isn’t about that. This story is about a boy who’d lookinto the sun and see butterfly shapes,and was fascinated by hell’s breathlessinferno at the nuclear power plant. Hewanted nothing in life,…
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dVerse Poetic Travels
Travelling in the Wilderness You can never read too much into anything.That’s what my granny Nne Nne says.She opens up the newspaper, and pointsher poppy red fingernail at some words. See here, she says, all words need spaces,a buffer for safety, it’s so those conflictingwords don’t bash into each other. And now I’m thinking of…
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For VV’s November Issue
A Different Sky I love airships and blimps.Huge. As big as a dinosaur.They fly past one another,and steal each other’s lightas their hinged wings spendthe air like copper pennies. I love the sound of rain poundingthe tarpaulin above my head. I love to fly with the rising sun,love to hear the wind shrill andrushing into…
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for Visual Verse: October
Through a Fine-Tooth Comb I look out the kitchen windowand mutter, I’m done with rain. Such are my thoughts, as hot watershowers coffee grounds, and I pulla fine-tooth comb through my hair.Have faith, I say, as each white follicleholds miserly against grating abrasion. My dust is everywhere. Skin dry anditching, even the air grates. Comes…
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An Ekphrasis Poem
Maakt Niets Uit – (It Does Not Matter) She asks me,what happens when someonesteals your face. Do I become a mirror?Am I more than pious dust,or exotic bric-a-brac? Am I a drip-tray colourto coax froman ancient alchemist’s text? This woman, she doesn’tmind that she’s made of crippled clay,that there’s a hole in her neck. It’s…
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for Visual Verse Anthology
JOURNEY’S END IN COUPLETS Summer finished,and I stopped. Parked up next to weedy rail tracks, and houses with empty window boxes. The air seemed a sickness. From the start,this was journey’s end. for Visual Verse Daily on Instagram. Image is from Ashraful Pranto @ashrafboy Poem © Misky 2020
It's Still Life 