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1002: Six Sentence Story
Passport Interrogation Part 1, Calais, 12 November 1830 The paddle-wheeler pitched us into France; the quay fatigued by tides, received us without welcome, smelling of coal and old salt. Under a dripping lamp the policeman collected our passports like birds he meant to keep, and we surrendered them as one surrenders breath to winter. Felreil,…
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0902: Quadrille 241
In Wilt and Thirst They bring the grave indoors, my dear.A perfumed death-rattlein a vase. Their vivid throats sing a borrowed song.A final, furious blushagainst cold glass— a love note signedin wilt and thirst.Flowers.See us drown in own deep thirst. Written for dVerse Poets, Quadrille #241 Flowers. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2026.
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Found & Remixed Poetry
A quick search of categories produced 35 pages of Found and Remixed poetry that I’ve published on Still Life during the past 10-years. For anyone who’s interested in reading some of them, here’s the link: https://misky.uk/category/found-remixed/
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0902: The Liturgy
Liturgy for the Provisional Passport (a hymn for the unmoored and ink-stamped, waiting) I. The Arrival Without WelcomeThe quay,it tolerates you.Coal-smoke and old salt.A lamp hissing in the rainan unwilling guard.You step from the paddle-wheeler’s pitchonto stone that has forgotten how to welcome.This is not a border crossed,but a threshold endured. II. The Surrender of…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
An Olympic Curling Critique(Or: to curl or not to curl) The Old Woman is curled up under a blanket,watching curlers sweep icewith a focus usually reserved for bomb disposal. The cat sits on the floor beside her,tail twitching in time with the stones. “Amateurs,” he mutters.“Look at that sweeping.No conviction!No flair!And the yelling —‘Hurry! Hurry…
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0702: Journal of Thoughts
Senryuwe walk through the rainbut don’t speak of what still clings the leaves understand Haikuraindrops on still leavesthe pond forgets summer’s name each ring fades in peace Written for SenHai Saturday #38 Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI. Poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2026.
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0602: Journal of Thoughts
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. Letting a foxglove grow wild in your garden is a way to kneel. Your dignity is not in your command, but in your constant, devotion to the love that moves the sun and the stars. The Foxglove in My Garden Speckled throat.Bell-tower of the…
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0502: Ten Things of Thankful
1. Thankful that I looked up and saw Imbolc’s full moon looking down at me through February’s bare branches. Taken with my iPhone. 2. Thankful for absolutely fabulous words: Borborology n. filthy talk; ribaldry. Obsolete (what a pity) circa 1645 3. That my toes weren’t crushed. I managed to slip the drawer, the one under…
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