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20 October: Ten Minutes Past Twelve
At 10 Minutes Past Twelve …he says he’s burnt the soup.How do you burn a liquid, I ask,and he says he just turned his back on it for a second, and it was toast. How does soup become toast, I ask,and he says marrying a poet is a bloody curse. Toast it is, I tell…
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20 October: Deep Water
Deep Water That black lake lies flat,lessons for a river, and there’s a far away tree,punctuation at the lake’s end, I want you, it says. Thin little skinny tree,as if fiction was a fact of death. Deep water is what it is,a fear that says it wants you. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI,…
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20 The Found Poetry Project
I wandered in my thoughts,weak of bone and skin, and all I wanted wasmorning silence of forest, but my mind was weighedheavy with life. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 45-47) Wounded by Love, The Life and…
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19 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
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19 The Found Poetry Project
even wild beastslove their children, but I remained fruitlessamongst washed rain. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 44) Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of St Porphyrious, First published in English 2005. ISBN 978-960-7120-19-9. A concise…
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18 The Found Poetry Project
I was a deluge of ideas,so I boiled my hair for a long time. And then it fell out. I wasn’t happy.I wasn’t. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 41-43) Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom…
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18 October: The Goatherd #13
The Spirit of Goats Sure as rocks roll down hills,the woman felt it split her skull. Feltthe explosive roar.Felt starlightdescend all round her. Heard a herald ring in her ears. This stormof no small power,renegade skies daredmock the Mara. A floodthat hurled trees, breakinginto one another,a cataclysmicconscious crush. Black crows chose for the sky,panicked, go…
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18 October: Absolute Furz
What I Saw on the Way to Petworth Perfect name for a cottage: BlackthornA road called Furz.A 992 should never be lime green.I doubt I’ll ever see another boomerang-shape cloud.A hawk is larger than you think, close up.Poor badger. After a while, we forgot about deathand how many bricks it’d take to keep a madman…
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17 The Found Poetry Project
Good fortune, and great returns. Eggs and milk,chicken and cheese,butter and everything. I grew seriously ill, but overjoyed. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 39-41) Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of St Porphyrious, First published…
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17 October: Flash Fiction (332 words)
Fifteen Minutes on 25 December 1968 (332 words) It’s Christmas. The one when the White Album came out. It was a Christmas gift. I bought it myself. I mean, I like socks and handmade polyester button up jumpers, well in truth, no I don’t, which why I bought my own gift that year. Anyway, it’s…
It's Still Life 