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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
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26 The Found Poetry Project
A Walking Stick Overcome by morning,the sun took me away on its road. My path reset and balancedwith my walking stick. A miraculous staffof doors opened. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 82-84) Wounded by Love, The…
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26 October: 01 Völuspá
01 Völuspá (vou.lah.spá) Every fisherman thinks the sea is his own to fish. A man.A woman.Newly wed,Their sacred pledge rang out. He does.She does.But she wants him to be her earth, Now.Forever.Beyond destruction, and a serpent’s kiss. But to the seaHe’ll return,His first love, to fish its depths. And she eases her heartWith stars,And charms,Lit…
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25 October: Tristan and Isolde
Tristan and Isolde She was a fallen leafAnd he was the ground And the stars allowedTheir circles to meetFor the briefest of time. She knew purest joyAnd blackness of loss She was a fallen leaf.And he was her ground. Maria Callas – Wagner- Tristan und Isolde -Liebestod. This is the first opera I ever saw, and…
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25 The Found Poetry Project
Ascetic Hurling a thunderbolt, this devine creation, without anger. Impassionate as a confession. Ascetic.Simple. Hold a spoon,or eat with a fork, and be filled by rarefragranceand incense. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 79-81) Wounded by Love,…
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24 The Found Poetry Project
Extricate From the desert, utter silence,while noise extricates me of water. A small stone makes small ripples,but a large stone swallowsmy depth and breadth. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 70-78) Wounded by Love, The Life and…
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23 The Found Poetry Project
Enlightened Never thought it fantasy,a chandelier oversuch fine wordsor a long story, or thirty-three years as if one day. The soul is not responsiblefor the mistakes of man.I said that.Often. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. (found on pgs 60-62)…
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23 October: God’s Seed
God’s Seed I know a woman who cleansdirt off a bar of soap. Her husband is a clean man,always smells of Wright’s Coal Tar. Spends his days on knobby knees,planting seed against the willof God’s own wind. His only mistress is the land —widely indifferent to his wife,who dreams of the day when his manhood…
