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13.03.22 Big City Streets
To Big City Streets To all thoseflags that hang limp as sullen moods,like gargoyles glaring on crowds below,and to all those windows polished clean, gleaming spring, puts the sun to shame,and to all those pedestrians — the girlsin tight shirts and shorts — the boysin slung-low jeans and long broad grins, and fathers with belted…
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12.03.22 #SOCS Trip
My first impression: the hand of catastrophe slapped us, and we are its remnants. It’s 11am. Where are the people? Bond Street is nearly empty. A man is laughing with his girl friend, must be a girl friend, their limbs are entangled like ivy. He’s strapped into a backpack with words LONDON in bold letters.…
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12.03.22: Too Early
The Crow That Arrived Too Early The morning is icy,the bird bath is frozen,and the house stares outon a silvery fog, and there’s a crow is on the lawn.An onyx star. A bull’s eye.A caw . . . a caw.Stab with your incantations, hollow out a moon’s feast.I heard a crow laughing,and the worldturned upside…
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11.03.22 It All Started with that Guy at the Portrait Gallery
It All Started with that Guy at the Portrait Gallery You’re a most peculiar child,that’s what Dad would say as he pumpedfuel into the Ford Falcon’s gas tank,and I’d inhale clouds of fumes encirclingmy head straight and deep into my lungs.I thought it was a most hypnotic scent.Almost as good as Mum’s cinnamon rolls. Same…
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09.03.22 Haibun Wednesday
This Morning. I’ve left my coffee somewhere. Out in the garage I think. When I went to get some chicken thighs out of the freezer. The leeks in the fridge are a bit impoverished, so I’ll roast up the chicken thighs with leeks and peas. And white wine. For that I’ll need to raid Mister’s…
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09.03.22 On Washing Dragons
A new chapter is ready to read at That’s No Way to Wash a Dragon. Poem form: Haibun. Image is from British Library Medieval Manuscripts, Digital Archive: Illuminations. Shared with #amwriting on Twitter. ©Misky 2022
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dVerse Quadrille #147
Her Dark Eyes Her eyes are pure stars,her memories too whole, … of watching ducklingsstruggle after their mother, … of watching oak seedshelicopter aimlessly through air, … of rain floodinga bird’s nest, and they think her madwhen she says this worldwill break your heart. for dVerse Poets, Quadrille #147 “Eye”. Image Portrait Of A Woman With Dark…
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07.03.22 #FOWC Limerick
Hooked There was an old troll from GdańskWith a nose he hoped to enhanceToo long, it bentNot straight, a dent,Oft’ mistook for a hook at first glance. Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge: today’s word is ‘Enhance’. #FOWC ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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06.03.22 #SOCS
One Minute and Thirty Seconds of Voyeurism She’s out there crouched betweenthe winter twigs, climbing roses thatover-reach the wall, and tangles ofbrittle-scented heather, and she’sdown there with weeds, nose-to-nosewith that electronic cat deterrentguaranteed (or all your money back)to scare away the cats, but the cats keep coming back, spines archinglike soup spoons, the way cats…
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06.03.22 GoDogGo Café Book Titles
WHEN GOD WAS A WOMAN I’m no philosopher. But . . . Darkness is unforgiving,and wars are arrogance. I’ve lived between book coversfor much of my life, and somemight say that’s not real living, as if living is only about dying, or blood isn’t blood unlessyou’re a woman, or a god,maybe a poet, or a…
It's Still Life 