It's Still Life

It's Still Life

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  • Miz Quickly’s One Hand Washes Another

    Down The Path we walk downthis ruttedsummer scented road,wherethe harvest was blessedby our loins with good grace and of season,though not as in salted, and you sparklelike the silver braceletaround your ankle,the one that youbought at the May village fête, and I take your hand,our fingers laced,knowingday on day thatyour belly swells. for Miz Quickly’s…

    Misky

    Jun 12, 2021
    #apoemaday, Miz Q, Poetry
  • 12 June: A Long View

    12 June: A Long View

    A Long View the stars set the skyin black-fringe, like a stellarbroadcast of fireflies. the full moon, a watchful slow-rolling eye, it was a blemish on her mood. she was a small spell broken.she was a wrong word let slip. for #FOWC “blemish” and Miz Quickly’s This Would Have Been Something Else. Shared with @Miz_Quickly and @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay…

    Misky

    Jun 12, 2021
    #apoemaday, #FOWC, ekphrastic, Miz Q, Poetry
    #FOWC
  • Miz Quickly’s Rhetoric List Poem

    A List Poem: A Bit of Rhetoric on Turmeric the knobs of soft butter and chicken thighs,the yellows of onion, garlic and ginger, addthe cumin, the cardamon and cinnamon,the Kashmiri chillis, some garam masala,two bay leaves from the garden. tomatoes.then fenugreek rolled between two fingers,its scent, a trembling light just before dark,its aroma caught in…

    Misky

    Jun 10, 2021
    Miz Q, Poetic Forms, Poetry
  • Miz Q’s 8 June and Twiglet #230

    A Thin Moon Stings This thin moon hangs in a void with itsinaudible hush. Wanders about on a breezy cosmic pulley. Rises up clearand as bright as blackbird’s song. Thin moon stings the sky, pale and veiled,sings over our muted voice. Takes our secrets to the grave. Old moon free ofmy worry. On a rope…

    Misky

    Jun 8, 2021
    #apoemaday, Miz Q, Poetry, Twiglets
    moon, Poetry
  • Miz Quickly’s It’s Up To You

    Like Two Owls Congrats, sis, and tillykke to Us.We were that one fertilised eggthat split into a thousand run-onmelodies. Scattered, and sea foamsoft. We became Us, you and me. We became a little night music.Fluid. Transient and oblivious.Waking and sleeping. Us. Always.Always sunshine in those trailspulling at us. We are magnetic. Congrats, sis, on living…

    Misky

    Jun 7, 2021
    #apoemaday, Miz Q, Poetry, Visual Verse
  • Miz Quickly’s Loaded Words

    Steep at the bottom of the hill      where every rippling southeast breeze      used to hit the creek bed straight-on,      where that one-legged black crow      used to nest until a cat got it, although      a few years later a fox ate that same cat,and down there…

    Misky

    Jun 6, 2021
    #apoemaday, #FOWC, Miz Q, Poetry
    #FOWC
  • More Advice for Miz Quickly

    More Advice for Miz Quickly

    Once Is Enough, Quite Frankly I can’t recall who, but someone told me once (because once was enough, quite frankly) “The only thing that’ll happen if you stand in the shower holding a bar of soap is the soap will melt.” It was probably my mother. She bubbled over with things you only wanted to…

    Misky

    Jun 4, 2021
    #apoemaday, #FOWC, Miz Q, Poetry
    #FOWC
  • Ars Poetica: The Yew Tree

    Ars Poetica: The Yew This is a tree.Something about it.It’s          interesting.But it’s not about the tree.So.         What’s it about?Childhood.It holds my childhood.That summer. The forestbehind the house. It’s beyondthe maple — Dad naileda birdhouse on it . Like Jesus. Crucified.It’s beyond the ripe huckleberriesthat I stopped to eat…

    Misky

    Jun 3, 2021
    #apoemaday, Miz Q, Poetic Forms, Poetry
    ars poetica
  • for Miz Quickly’s The Forgottens

    Just Hello When I was a kid, our telephonewas in the coat closet. Shiny asnight was black. Rotary dial. Very Humphrey Bogart. Even with the closet door closed,you could hear its urgency. Thatshrill ring. Didn’t sound like birdschirping or a motorcycle engine. And no one ever rang to just say,Hello.Hey. How’s it going, babe.What about…

    Misky

    Jun 3, 2021
    Miz Q, Poetry
    #apoemaday
  • A Not So Pristine Limerick

    A Dirty Little Limerick There once was a car named ChristineHer owner kept her clean and pristineBut when she stopped on the tracksThe driver’s bowels went laxAnd Christine was more muck than clean        Written to Fandango’s FOWC prompt: Pristine. Image from Unsplash by Courtney Cook. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay #FOWC on Twitter…

    Misky

    Jun 2, 2021
    #FOWC, Poetry
    #FOWC
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