-
Here We Nap
Here Where the Heat Is Here, where heat seepsthrough stones,and shadows wedgeinto the hours, and air hangs spareand paper thin,here we napin near-dead sleep. I’ve recycled the phrase near-dead sleep because that’s the way a nap feels in 33.6° heat. Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
-
22 July: 20 Pieces of a Poem
Piece #2: The One That’s Preposterous He thinks of his mum when he eatssliced white bread, the sort that stickson the back of your front teeth. Ida, that’s his mum’s name. If she hada middle name, he didn’t know it.Probably didn’t much care. A namewouldn’t change his side of the view. Ida baked a loaf…
-
20 July: 20 Pieces of a Poem
Piece 1: The One with Similes and Metaphors When the midday sun is winter low, and lovers cast a single shadow, and he is like twice-frozen snow, and she’s milk and honey melting, and love, that’s her secret, and desire is his, and they wonder – will they, won’t they, fit together like a perfect…
-
Saturday’s Stream of (un)Consciousness
My house has a red door. Not sure why I chose red, except that I like red. Nobody else around here does, it seems. Across the street, their front door is white. Next door’s is white. The other side is grey. Next to them is grey. There’s a blue one up the street. And a…
-
dVerse Chants
A Slash of Ink that note wasa bee sting. washeated and burnt.was stabbed.was sharp.hung. unstrung. undone.one correction.a turn. returned.again, burnt bya critic’spen. Responding to dVerse Poet’s prompt “The Chant”. I didn’t manage the chant element well, so I’ll not post back a link of their site. I can think of no good reason for people to…
-
An Unfinished Symphony Sort-of-Poem
An Unfinished Symphony Sort-of-Poem one pigeon in the kitchen,two magpies on the roof three mudhens and a wren plusfour dogs are barking WOOF,five crows with shiny trinkets,six boys making too much noise,seven girls in pearls and curls dancing to a dog and…
-
One-Liner Wednesday: 14 July 2021
I remember sleeping in the basement under just a bedsheet because upstairs was a thousand shades of August heat. written for One-Liner Wednesday’s Which Season . Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
-
dVerse Gardening
If There’s One, There’s Ten Every year this airless clayis turned, tilled and seeded.A childbirth of preparationout of winter’s wilderness. Out of January’s bankruptcy. And then May. A shift to blue.The God of Azure has arrived.Lupins. Stocks, and hollyhocks.The air is sweet scented clove. My mother wore that scent. The thistle grows, daggers offoxglove with…
-
For Twiglet #235 Folding Paper
Somethings Just Stick, And They’re Not Even Sticky I don’t remember much of 1st grade,except my teacher’s name: Mrs. dePugh. She smelled like chicken soup. I’d giggle when Dad called her Mrs Stinky.That’s why I remember her name, that and the chicken soup smell, and every Monday we took off our socksand shoes, and she’d…
-
dVerse Quadrille #131
A Lean In Close In-between those growing-upyears, those kisses deepas a double bass, Bobby Darin pours fromthe jukebox. He’s a dark language I don’t understand. Sounds malicious. Thirstywords soft as a cottonsaxophone. It’s an over-salted melody,and Mac the Knife plays on. Written to prompt at dVerse Poets Quadrille #131: 44 words (sans title) including the word…
It's Still Life 