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dVerse Quadrille #105
Slip Sliding There’s a landslip at Viking Bay. First the garage went. That was Sunday. The landowner said he moved his car, thinking the garage might collapse. Monday, the garage, the house, and the fishpond fell into the sea. His neighbour says she’s not going anywhere. for dVerse Quadrille #105 “Slip” ©️ Misky…
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Miz Q02: Image Prompt
It Put Me Right Off Chicken Forever A man on the street is asked, What’s the first thing you’ll do when lockdown ends? Go the KFC, he says, and get me-self a tub of chicken. And the reporter says, Oh. Okay. Well, what else? And he says, Next? ermm, a 24 count Chicken Nuggets with…
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for June’s Visual Verse
Elementary It is early June, and I hear birdsong – it’s bright, coming straight out of sunshine. The bird hides somewhere in the late spring greenery of the garden. I can’t see it. I am solely reliant on its song. It’s pitched at the upper half of the keyboard, sharp not flat, and not C.…
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Miz Q 01: Remix
Through an Old Window I was born in rainwater, with clothespins sewn in my pockets. I was a burden and a blessing. I was air drifting in old windows, and I was the passing of that century when fishes and loaves were born in a roadside kitchen. Remixed text from Written by Himself…
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26 April 2020
Originally posted on The Journal: Writing After James Schuyler’s “Hymn to Life” — He and I in a Square – (regularly updated) Day 84 of Lockdown. Summer: sunny, 28°C. The neighbour’s chainsaw cuts through the morning. I’m awake. And it’s charity bag day. Every house, but the 3rd one up the hill from me, has…
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Miz Q 31 May
Are You Waiting for Me Sunrise seeps through the slats of the fence. Shakes the leaves into dancing silhouettes. Shuffles shadows like playing cards. We all fall down. My ear against the pillow. Heaven fills the other. Thunder rolls — all those souls are clapping. Are you waiting for me in heaven? What…
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More Than a Voice
More Than A Voice A Trill. A B-flat shrill. There’s a blackbird in the laurel bush. Sing to me your birdsong. Blackbird with an orange beak warbling to the world. Here. There. Everywhere. I hear your voice over the traffic, the dog’s bark from next door, the girls playing up the street, the ice cream…
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Where the Story Took Her
Where the Story Took Her I once heard of a girl who was so high above us that she was her very own bright moon. Her face was her pride, and her laughter star-sparkling. I heard that she was all legs and luxury, lips like plums, and eyes of lavender-lilt. She wore pastel-pink shorts, and…
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for Twiglet #177
Sing a Song Remix there, upturned on the grass, Sing a song of sixpence, rests an empty nest, A pocket full of rye, a broken speckled egg, Four and twenty blackbirds maybe a sparrow, or a wren, Baked in a pie. For Twiglet 177 Vacant Nest and Miz Q. ©️ Misky 2020
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dVerse Haibun
There’s this painting by Piet Mondrain, reminds me of PacMan. Makes my think the whole image should move in robotic jerks and jolts. Sounds effects, too. Tic.Tic.Tic.Tic. Inching left, right, up, down. Tic.Tic.Tic.Tic. Or maybe more like Space Invaders. I played that on a tiny black & white telly at my cousin’s house. He had…
