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31 The Found Poetry Project
And Finally … I lived as ifon the point of death. My greatest love,trees, and my heart leaptfor each one planted with my coolcleardrinking water. This is the final found poem for the month of October. I’m considering whether to continue, as I’m only half way through the book. Images are copyright and not to…
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30 October: The Children’s Menu
The Children’s Menu It’s the nuggets.Always the nuggets.No sauce.He hates sauce. Can I substitute saucefor waffles, he asks.May I, says his mother.Yes you can, says the waitress. And he hates all the noise.It’s always the noise.Knives and forks and platesand the chewing chewing. May you turn off the noise, he asks.Can you, says his mother.No,…
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30 The Found Poetry Project
Cracked I cherish him from far off.Alone, in the smallof nightfall. My head,of its own world,was a wilderness, disseminatingnight’s scentfrom cracked rocks. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 100-102) Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of…
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29 The Found Poetry Project
A Philosophy Summeris a vegetable garden,choked with timeand understanding, scattered with joy,where sadness isa philosophyfor not entering. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 95-98) Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of St Porphyrious, First published in…
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28 The Found Poetry Project
Unlettered Names I found myselfface-to-face with his mind An unlettered name,like a failed book We donned word by wordsand swam in bowls of thick BlindLameA paralytic angel broken Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 89-93) Wounded by…
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28 October: 02 Völuspá
Völuspá: The Stir They called her backfrom Valhöll, from green roots and stones. One hand on the rim of heaven,with no knowledgeof where she’d been. She is Vala,the seerer. She casts wordsacross her pearled stones, for those great and large,for fathers of old timesand early borne, for deeds of great recount,for their sons rearedto carrying…
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27 October: A Syzygy Poem
A Syzygy Poem A woman stands in the rain.Hat. No coat. No umbrella.No need. She won’t rust. Shovel in her hand, tendingthe soil. Bends and bows.Rain is her background. She sings around the edgesof a tune from her childhood,something about rainbows. A three-way split “Syzygy poem”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified…
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27 The Found Poetry Project
The Order of Women I stumbledthrough a gate, there orange,lemon,and miracle trees. And he sent us rainwhen we had love, and good orderwith the women. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 86-88) Wounded by Love, The Life…
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26 October: Disintegration
Disintegration Do you hear that?There’s an empty space in my voice. A void in my capabilities.To climb a hill, and exhaust it. Stairs by handrailsby step-step, step-step. Do you see the ghost of a womanwho could take stairs two at a time. Zero to sixty in 3.3 seconds.Off-piste.5K. I’m in danger of becomingmoss on a…
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26 October: A Thursday Door
Bushboy (Brian Dodd) shares photos of doors, but not just any doors. Spectacular doors from his journeys. Dan’s Thursday Doors opened the door on this. I love doors of all sorts. I’ve trawled through my holiday snaps and found a few to share. ©Misky 2023 Shared on X #amwriting @bushboywhotweet and @DAntion
It's Still Life 