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Miz Quickly’s 16 December: Two Titled Pieces
I.Anatomy of a Wave – On Crests of a Buoyant Hand Take yourself to the water’s edge,watch a wave bend and swell.Hear the bubbles and fizz, subtleand shining like mossy green. That curl of an uncertain geometry floating into a mindless fall,into the shape of hard steel bliss,into those cool silver-ish tones.…
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For dVerse Poets: Starlorn
Why I Miss My Sister Do you remember that summer at the lake,when we decided to sleep outsidebecause the house was too hot. And you say, Yes. Vaguely … and then you look away,up at the sky and the clouds,and you go quiet for at leasta whole long minute, and then you say, What about…
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Miz Quickly’s 13 December: Light
And There Was Light I.On a Limb December’s grey,an unchanging backgroundagainst spinning shapesthat cling to the wall –reflections off CDstied to the neighbour’s cherry tree. A magpie settles on a limb,pecks at the disc,this ghost of a winter leaf,and waits forsomething to happen. II.In A Moment I am sipping coffee that’s gone coldwhilst…
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For dVerse Poets: Quadrille #142
Noodling Isn’t About Pasta I never botherremoving tinselfrom a Christmas tree. It’s impossible, it’s likeremoving a kitefrom a telephone wire. Or catching a troutwith your hands,although I used to be able to do that.Dad taught me –he called it noodling. Yes, it’s absolutely true – noodling. It’s also calling trout tickling. As for the tinsel,…
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13 December: A Stream of Consciousness
Mike just walked by. He has a fistful of Christmas cards. I’m washing lunch dishes, looked up, and saw him. He nods. I guess we’re not on his Christmas card list this year. Actually, we never were. Give one to get one, I can hear my mother say. She had all sorts of wisdom packed…
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Miz Quickly’s 12 December 2021
All The Dragons Are Slain It’s a small view, a leaded window on sloped roofs heavy with snow, and there’s a lightness of white filling the room. He’s ashen cold, the same as yesterday, winter on winter dipping deeper into blankets. Our poet, he’ll not fight the world today, his walking stick idles against the…
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Painting Yourself Out of Winter
Painting Yourself Out of Winter She’s painting a picture of a storm, but dreaming of summer warmth. I’ll add the sea, she said, and some men mending a rickety boat, and maybe fish with razor-sharp teeth. There was glittering frost, and alwaysmore cold. I hate this weather, she said. (c) Misky 2021
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Miz Quickly’s Familiar Elements
A Rolling Fog Fog arrivedand split the air,the light,on cue as if by water wrungand spunby Freyr’s ownfloundering hand. It clungto lamp postscold as rust, andlicked the pavementwith swamp water. And we wondered how somethingas light as fog could carry water. Written for Miz Quickly’s 8 December Familiar Alchemical Elements Image: Venice with image filters, original photo…
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dVerse Poetics and Miz Quickly’s Alchemical Elements
British Military Campaign Desk From Burma In threes. Top. 2 side units. Open straight through.Officer’s desk. Heavy as God’s infinite wisdom. Every desk has a lock. Not every lock has a key.Locks. Picked. Opened. Old wood and camphor. A list of names. In sequence. Letters in a drawer.Written in a place too hot. Air disguised…
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For Twiglet #256
Rhythm of the Night Isn’t About Poetry The night is ringingin my ears. Light leakingthrough the blinds likepinpricked stars. Those stars laughing at an owlon some nearby treeswallowing its vowels. And I’m awake again.So I write something,fall asleep, wake up again,and write something. For Twiglets #256 “Awake Again”. Photo by Todd Steitle and AJ Jean on Unsplash. Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter…
It's Still Life 