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For dVerse Poets: Quadrille #142
Noodling Isn’t About Pasta I never botherremoving tinselfrom a Christmas tree. It’s impossible, it’s likeremoving a kitefrom a telephone wire. Or catching a troutwith your hands,although I used to be able to do that.Dad taught me –he called it noodling. Yes, it’s absolutely true – noodling. It’s also calling trout tickling. As for the tinsel,…
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13 December: A Stream of Consciousness
Mike just walked by. He has a fistful of Christmas cards. I’m washing lunch dishes, looked up, and saw him. He nods. I guess we’re not on his Christmas card list this year. Actually, we never were. Give one to get one, I can hear my mother say. She had all sorts of wisdom packed…
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Miz Quickly’s 12 December 2021
All The Dragons Are Slain It’s a small view, a leaded window on sloped roofs heavy with snow, and there’s a lightness of white filling the room. He’s ashen cold, the same as yesterday, winter on winter dipping deeper into blankets. Our poet, he’ll not fight the world today, his walking stick idles against the…
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Painting Yourself Out of Winter
Painting Yourself Out of Winter She’s painting a picture of a storm, but dreaming of summer warmth. I’ll add the sea, she said, and some men mending a rickety boat, and maybe fish with razor-sharp teeth. There was glittering frost, and alwaysmore cold. I hate this weather, she said. (c) Misky 2021
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Miz Quickly’s Familiar Elements
A Rolling Fog Fog arrivedand split the air,the light,on cue as if by water wrungand spunby Freyr’s ownfloundering hand. It clungto lamp postscold as rust, andlicked the pavementwith swamp water. And we wondered how somethingas light as fog could carry water. Written for Miz Quickly’s 8 December Familiar Alchemical Elements Image: Venice with image filters, original photo…
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dVerse Poetics and Miz Quickly’s Alchemical Elements
British Military Campaign Desk From Burma In threes. Top. 2 side units. Open straight through.Officer’s desk. Heavy as God’s infinite wisdom. Every desk has a lock. Not every lock has a key.Locks. Picked. Opened. Old wood and camphor. A list of names. In sequence. Letters in a drawer.Written in a place too hot. Air disguised…
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For Twiglet #256
Rhythm of the Night Isn’t About Poetry The night is ringingin my ears. Light leakingthrough the blinds likepinpricked stars. Those stars laughing at an owlon some nearby treeswallowing its vowels. And I’m awake again.So I write something,fall asleep, wake up again,and write something. For Twiglets #256 “Awake Again”. Photo by Todd Steitle and AJ Jean on Unsplash. Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter…
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dVerse Prosery: 7 Dec 2021
Something About Red Tulips Your hand. As I sleep. Or do I dream. Is it your dream, or mine, or am I the voyeur, watching someone else’s dream. In your stories I am undressed, and so I dress in their stories. Patterned and purple. As night wants to be me … and awake. For your…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 7: Part 2 – The Scent of a Place ✓
Those Wild Poppies … In a Danish fieldyou ripple, ridinga breeze. Your seedsfrom dark to bright, blossomsscattered like broken vows. Wild peals of feathered voice,the wind that envies yoursilken red. Quick! Root your brethren to a fieldin drifts of delirium. You scorn shadows from shafts of wheat, scornthe corn and its rigid rod.You bend and…
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Miz Quickly’s Various Degrees of Green
Various Degrees of Green I hope that I am neverdisappointed in spring,that medical grade neon greenstripped of its mortality it’s noisy and brash, and yet I painted green on the wall to reflect calm and quiet, bring outdoors … In. But spring green is anything but quiet. It’s a noise that pops and pulls at…
