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0801: Tideglass
Tideglass She walks where the sea leaves its broken things,soft glassand sorrow in tangled strings. A letter floats in a rock pool’s sleep.Its ink runs cold,its silence deep. “My heart’s no sum that sense can hold,but it forecasts storms, and it’s turning cold.” She reads,then folds it like a prayer,and leaves it cradledgently there. Written…
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0701: A Six Sentence Story
Clinging to Small Solid Facts in Six Sentences We talk about Venezuela, as if naming it might steady the water, and I drift in the jacuzzi like a bubble, briefly convinced of my own shape. I mention that Einstein had flat feet — facts don’t ask questions because saying something solid feels like ballast against…
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23.12: Journal of Thoughts
The Gift Economy We are not measured by balance sheets,a favour owed, a debt now cleared.The soul keeps no such ledger. We are measured by the cup of watergiven to the rootless seed,by the shelter built for a stranger’s storm,by the word spoken into a silencethat might never answer back. Love, like poetry, is a…
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05.01: A Liturgy for a Bubble
A Liturgy for the Bubble in a Current Once upon a time We gathered at water’s edge,in a jacuzzi between the spokenand the dissolved. We knew when a metaphor was not a metaphor,but a bubble wearing a skin of air, and we spoke to the Brief Republic,the Spinning Borders,the diamond thinning to memory.We called it…
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0401: A Heightened Pass Through the Current
We’re talking Venezuela;it’s coup dressed up as civics,steam lifting words from our mouths like ghoststhat won’t vote,and I am a bubble in the jacuzzi,a brief republic of air, spinning its borders open and shut. “Wasn’t it flat feet that spared Einstein the uniform,” I say, and facts being facts, statements pretending not to ask permission,…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
THE CAT’S TEMPORAL PROTEST(Or: Why Fix What Isn’t Broken) The Old Woman is hanging a new calendar.A gift from the crow.Who stole it. January glows with a photo of a serene garden. The cat watches,tail-tip flicking with skepticism.“Explain,” he says,“the need for a new year.The old one was functional.It had sunbeams.It had sardines.It had that…
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01.01: Ten Things of Thankful
I am still in Colombia, and in the loving arms of my two grandchildren and family. We left Bogotá the day after Christmas for Anapoima, which is a much lower altitude at 710 meters (2,329 feet). We’re in the mystical Magdalena River Valley. I’m thankful to be in Colombia: Back home in Sussex it’s -6℃.…
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December: Last Photo of 2025 on the Card
This post is in response to Brian’s monthly challenge Last Photo on the Card. Brian (aka Bushboy) asks for the Last Photos on your phone/camera/SD card. Here is the last shot taken using my iPhone 16Pro Max. Shared on Twitter with @bushboywhotweet Last post of the year! This is my granddaughter, Luisa.
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31.12: To You All
Happy New Year and my very best wishes to you all. — Marilyn (Misky) 🜄 Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI. Poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2026.
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30.12: Six Sentence Story
It Sings at Night At dusk, on the edge of a pond bordered by palms and deciduous trees that have forgotten how to lose their leaves, a call rises only at night that sounds like a woodpecker at work. There are, however, no woodpeckers in the forest of Anapoima, Colombia. This is a goatsucker; a…
It's Still Life 