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I Remember Pale Rain
I Remember Pale Rain The thistles have gone purple,spiny and tetchy,and the cosmos (I kid you not)are taller than the fence. I long for the scentof a bonfire and soft rainthat hisses at its embers. What’s happened to our rain?Soft English rain.It was perfumed, pale and translucent.Pinkish.Fragrant. This stuff is Bangkok…
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dVerse Quadrille #135
The Worst Parts The man she loves is dead,and left her a thorny heart.It’s torture. And so she knits. It numbs. It’s transcendental.Self-medicating. Melancholystitching a repeating groove. Her rhythm never judges –the needles know shedoesn’t want to move on. Written for dVerse Quadrille #135 “groove” . Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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6 September 2021: Secret
Tell Me a Secret This dayis attached to nothing, and it unleashes the nightlike dark hair. My hair was dark once,long ago, when branches were winterand secrets were shadows. Tell me a secret.I need something to keep. Photo by Nick Nice on Unsplash. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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A Limerick: Fakery
Fakery There once was a woman who sneeredat anything looking austere.The tags on her clothes, which she carefully choose,had ink, when wet, that smeared. Written for Fandango’s One Word Challenge #FOWC Today’s word is “Austere”. Photo by Laura Chouette on UnsplashShared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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Strike
Lightning Strike It speaks.A voicein the near distance. A sudden visitation oflightning thatvanishes. A flashlike a wanderingthought. It breaks the air. Such are itslibertine ways. And it roars like a lion,then a heartbeat, low and warm. Image is from Unsplash (via their iPhone app). Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky…
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Stream of Consciousness Saturday: 4 September
Stream of Consciousness Saturday: 4 September Above the dim stirand clatter of dishes, we sit content at tables. Dinner talk.Tea and sugar.Blossoms and ash. We,the ages,playing cards. Pale worlddriftingin constellations, five stars look like a cat. And this dull pencilhas lost itssharpened pin. Dull lines is allit writes. It seems…
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For September’s VV
It Was Once Upon Such A Long Time Ago Long before the fires burnt all the forests,we hung tangerines and lumps of coalfrom Christmas trees, and in December we’d chase about the forest, and my dad,with his shiny axe in hand, chopped downan unmistakably perfect pine tree thatwas as straight as a lighthouse. And, on…
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Tin Soldiers in Their Pockets
Kids Once Carried Tin Soldiers in Their Pockets… Did you know that, he says, as he cleans his hands,his nails one at a time. He stares out the windowwhere moments before children with satchelsstrapped to their backs walked by. They’re likesmall tortoises in no hurry to return to school. Would you turn on the lights,…
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1 Sept: An Elevenie
Clouds steelgrey gliding east to westpassengers on the windclouds Poetic form: an Elevenie. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
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1 Sept: 1LinerWeds
Screening Day Graceland plays on the radio as I re-read the letter: wear a skirt or trousers; don’t use spray deodorant although roll-on is okay; don’t arrive early; no childcare available … and as Graceland plays on, I think, Zoe Ball, you have the world’s best job. Written for for Linda Hill’s One Liner Wednesday #1linerWeds. Shared…
It's Still Life 