-
17 June: Those Weeds
Overgrown Weeds The rain is hot, and he says – he’s goingto take off his shoes ’causehe shoots hoops better that way, andthe ball crashes against the fence,and he cusses the way 10-year old boysfrom his side of town cuss,and two girls on a swing giggle, kick their feet up to the steel sky,and the…
-
16 June: dVerse Last Words
“A certain butterfly is already on the wing.” Vladimir Nabokov. To Dwindle A butterfly leaves its past behind, flies south for winter and then dies. But its children, well on a wing return to their parents’ past. I am a butterfly, returned to empty my mother’s flat, to my mother’s spartan life of 4 plates,…
-
15 June: Petite Pen
Wilt Nothing happens – and yeteverythingwilts at her feet. for Petite Pen image by Ron Hicks ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
-
15 June: A Byr a Thoddard Poem
Feels Like A Warm Stone It’s the one I always think of – as home. That house of childhood Where distance was a horizon And the bedsheets breathed my return. A non-rhyming (Welsh) Byr a Thoddard, 10.6.8.8. ©Misky 2022 Image: “Homeward bound in a horse-drawn carriage“, by David Burliuk, Original Title: Возвращение на родину в конном…
-
14 June: dVerse Prosery
Prosery Thinking There are places I’ll never reach because my feet ache, and there are mornings when I see a sunrise and it feels ancient and seamless, and it saddens me to see its oxygen-rich colours bleeding across the world, and sometimes the sound of new day reminds me that I’m minus one more, and…
-
13 June: for Three Line Thursday
when the night sky burst openand copper colours stencilled the skysulphur and salt fell on silence. for Three Line Thursday at Ink In Thirds, prompt word is ‘flair’ which cannot be used in the poem. Image: Fireworks by Walasse Ting, Date: 1973, Style: Abstract Expressionism. And here’s a little ditty from Cosmo Sheldrake on YouTube. I wonder if anyone…
-
12 June: Twiglet #282
Bleached Silence What do you dowith the sort of silencethat fills the houseand hides in the walls.It’s at the windowand the door, it’smonkeys in your hair.What’s a woman to dowhen bleached silencewon’t listen anymore. for Twiglets #282 “Bleached Silence, The Philosopher. Silence by Nicholas Roerich, 1940. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
-
12 June: #SOCS Spring Green
The Grassy Margins Nature’s apparitionis a green garb,blissful colourspilling from itself.We tangle into itsbouquet margins,we, who find ourselvesin a cuckoo’s shoes,displaced in green. for Linda Hill’s #SOCS, prompt: write a piece based on an image. Image by Thomas Hart Benton, Spring Cave, 1955. A new musical find for me, Cosmo Sheldrake, who’s producing some very interesting…
-
11 June: It’s Personal
It’s Personal Wanted. A flower girl. And a fire starter. An angel in a tablecloth.Night water.And a waltz. Where is the love, Lady Marlene. The north wind knows. For Song Shine Sounds, Flashback Track. Write a personal ad with the title of a song in it. Be sure to include the track in your response. And…
-
10 June: An Erasure Poem
He was indulging himself to get rid of them. To make every person an open glass door. He blushed at the terrible temptation. Image from WikiArt: by Matise, The Open Door. Public domain. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter. Text sourced from Jaws, by Benchley, Peter. Digital Jaws. Pub. Pan 70, 2017. Definition: Erasure…
