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0809: Dead Men Don’t Drown
Dead Men Don’t Drown: #5 (catch-up with all episodes here) “Hi Mum, it’s me — ay’okay, well, sort of, because I popped up the shops for milk, bread, and a few bits, and saw two pottery Staffordshire dogs like Gran’s in the antique shop, so I went in to see whether they were worth anything.”…
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0709: The Liturgy
05 Liturgy for the Unintended(for the moment the ear catches what the heart was not meant to hold) I. The Ear That Catches What Was Not MeantIt begins with a moment,an answer,a voice that carries wordswith informationIt arrivesbefore you can close your ears. You did not seek it.You did not want it,but now it is…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat and the Cloud(Or: A Feline Declaration of War on Weather) The cat lies sprawled in his sunbeam,belly up,eyes half-closed, when a cloud drifts lazily across the skyand steals his light. He blinks.Warmth gone.Shadow.Cold.The impertinence of it. He sits up,ears flat,tail bristling. “Old Woman,” he hisses,“that cloud is messingwith my sunny spot.My carefully curatedafternoon…
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0609: Journal of Thoughts
Stream of Consciousness (Motion) There’s a pigeon drinking from the rain gutter, dipping and lifting, dipping again, each swallow calling on the small machinery of its neck, while beneath it a bead of leaf-rusty water finds the gutter’s seamed joint and follows its old route downward; beyond the rain-poxed window a branch moves through still…
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0509: Journal of SenHai
SenryūThe path says nothingI follow its listeningdeeper into green. HaikuListening through green,stone path curves toward the seawind enters the tree. SenryūThe tree stands its groundgrass comes running with the windstone wanders away. HaikuBrown trunk in deep greenthe stone path stitches through grasswind unpicks the seam. Written for SenHai Saturday: #68. Not all images are created…
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0509: Everywhere Poems
I.his feet are on the coffee table,arms crossed,glasses inches down his nose. I never noticed thatBirkenstockshave squiggles on the soles. ah rain. and thunder. II.never rake leaveswhen the wind is blowing. the pigeonis standing in the birdbathdemanding water. III.saturday.rain. steadyand soft dripping from the gutter. ‘money on which plant revives first?’ I say.he shrugs, ‘fiver…
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0409: Six Sentence Story
The Alcove: Afters Last week’s Poetry Slam has ended, the scent of cigars lingering hungry for fire to catch from a match. The proprietors gather at the end of the bar, hugs and laughter — how little separates laughter from crying, I think. Denise looks up from polishing water marks from a wine glass; “Hi…
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0409: Stick of Butter
Stick of Butter when I was ten, maybe nine, but certainly no younger because we were living in the house where we lived the longest, and my bedroom window emptied its view straight into the yew tree and the park beyond, so I must’ve been ten … or nine … anyway, I spent the night…
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0309: A Thursday Door
For more info on this church, please refer to St Nicholas Church. Dan’s Thursday Doors opened the way to share my love of doors — of all sorts. I’ve trawled through my photos and found a few to share. Bushboy (Brian Dodd) also shares photos of doors from his his journeys. ©Misky 2022-2026 Shared on X #amwriting…
