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Day 14: The Mirror and the Palette
The Mirror and the Palette I love lilies.Mum hated them. But that’s not why I love them, although there was that contrary friction between us from time to time. I love them becausethey smell like church. Mum hated them becausethey smell like church. When Mum’s father passed away, Grandma filled the church with white lilies.…
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Day 14: #JusJoJan “Freckled”
A FRECKLED SKY OF STARS There’s a flute in the trees.Did you hear its song.It’s as short as a dream. A whispered lullaby.A cellar into sleep. Close your itchy eyeson night’s freckled stars.Dream across the sky. Written for Day 14: JusJoJan “Freckled” ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #apoemaday on Twitter
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Q14: A Journey of Limited Space
A JOURNEY OF LIMITED SPACE I’ll pack a bag,lock out thoseleathery tongues ofnews and politics. Packa bag full of memoriesfor a long journey into light. I’ll close my eyes and close my lips,hold the world between two fingers. Yesterday, I opened a drawerand discovered I’ve beencollecting elastic rubber bands. A box of them.And a jar…
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dVerse: Tuesday Poetics Haibun
The Table of Imaginary Dreams Until we knocked walls down, this was the dining room. Now it’s a bright corner with a heavy oak table, chairs that won’t slide easily under the table when you’re sitting on them. And there, an old milk bottle with a few flowers bending from the stem. Even in winter…
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Q13: Body Memory
BODY MEMORY I.We sat crosslegged, our fingersstrolling through the lawn,searching out four leaf clover. II.The chill from grass climbedup our legs – summer’s leanas cotton shorts and skirts. III.I turned my back to the sun,but in truth all I wanted wasto hold its long gaze on me. IV.Lemonade, sharp as the sun,fit for an old…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 12 Words
A Book Called: WE DO THIS ‘TIL WE FREE US (so we can walk with snowdrops again) Rain and sop. A walk homein a wet reddish twilight,and watched overby a corroded moon. It felt too warm for January,this passive rain that tugs meunderfoot. This lilting suckof mud, and a…
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Day 12: The Mirror and the Palette
Look how winter rearranges things. Leaves. Life. Debris. It dances deranged around trees, strips then bare, and thenknocks them down. Written for GoDogGo Café. A Book called “The Mirror and The Palette” – Constraint: The title of a book is included in the title or the body of your poem. ©Misky 2022. Shared with #amwriting #GoDOGGoCafe #GreatReadsPromptChallenge on…
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Day 12: for GoDogGo Café
A BOOK CALLED “TODAY A WOMAN WENT MAD IN THE SUPERMARKET” ….. assuming that a supermarket is a street corner on a day that was bald and brightand suddenly white, and she keepswalking, led blindfolded by the Fates. Just following her feet, step after stepinside her head, deep in a fog,…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 12: Remixing
A SWAN: UNTITLED a slap on the water,on the air, lifting,here a slap and there, wings white, snowy and down,here where their necks arch,air caressing its down. oh fingered webs,oh beating white rush, here beating, there overthe loosening ripplesof a lake’s brooding broth. Miz Quickly’s Day 11: Sort of create a link or mix between…
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Day 11: GoDogGo Café and JusJoJan
A BOOK CALLED THE SWEETNESS OF WATER assuming the water is poisoned A sardonic rat sits ona stone. Watching me.Eyes like flamesand shrieking murder.Wolfish rat, who eatsa poisoned apple,inwardly grinning at his pleasure.Foolish rat, soon sleepingdeep in rooted red poppies.Your chance for a lifecrossed into ourcosmopolitan sympathies.…
It's Still Life 