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for Twiglet #237
Puppet Dance Puppet toy,boy embodied on a string. Almost human, his hop and dance.Mimicked madness as the lights dim and the strings fall off. Such a pale and wan display,a wordless apparition as he runs wild off the stage. It’s a swarm in a storm. Written for Twiglet #237 ‘Wooden Puppet’. Photo by Jose Francisco Morales on Unsplash. Shared with #APoemADay…
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dVerse Quadrille #132
Roll On After the icicles thawed,and damp left the basementthrough open windows,I remember wondering what happened to winter,I’ve no clear memories of it. Sometimes I’m like a stream,not knowing where I’ve come fromor where I’m going. I justroll on. Quadrille for dVerse Poets, including the word ‘stream‘. Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash . Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter …
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Seventeen Syllables and Some Prose
The clipped wings of prayers still rise through the morning mist and falling raindrops. It is no effort to stay, rooted in the moon’s clatter, in this oily dusk, but when all parts of me are worn out, I’ll be freed to dissolve in the lipped waves of some spacious stream, gone from the green of…
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24 July 2021: This Is Not a Diary #SoCS
Stream of Consciousness Saturday, 24 July I’m in the gardenbefore the rain starts again.Cutting rosesfor the kitchen windowsill, and a fistful of parsley. Cod with parsley sauce tonight.Mum’s old vase for the roses,tarnished, blueish, needs a polish. But not now. The parsley is washed.Sand and soil settlein the washbowl, not many insects,and no spray used…
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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
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
It's Still Life 