Tag: AI Digital Art
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10 April: A Blitz Poem that’s a 50-Line Chain Verse
I misunderstood the instructions for writing a Blitz Poem, although after seeing an example I understand it (it’s a brain thing), and I thought (&*%^!!), but since it took the better part of the morning to do, I’ll post it anyway … because as it happens, This is a Chain Verse – A descendant of…
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10 April: A Six – Part 4 Tectonic Shifts
Previous instalments of this story: Part 1: The Pull Back Part 2: The Measure of Her Part 2: The Gatekeeper’s Response Part 3: The Colour of Walls Part 4: Tectonic Shifts Part 5: Out of the Frying Pan Part 6: How to Break Eggs Part 7: A Moon River Part 8: Starlight Shines on the Roof Part 9: Before When Part: 9.1 Flower Power At an Intersection Named…
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9 April: NaPoWriMo
The Breath of Ghosts She much prefers tulips. They aren’t like roses or peonies that shrivel to dust and become the breath of ghosts. Tulips don’t wilt. They just drop their petals. They are like corseted Victorian women. They faint. And she knows that the stars she sees are already dead – but that doesn’t…
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8 April: NaPoWriMo
That Car Was God’s Triumph That’s what Dad always said.He loved his old Ford Victoria,though Lord knows why. The drivers door had a croaking creak,the floor puddled after a rain,and the brakes froze-up like a fridge. Remember how you fixed the fan beltwith bark from a twig? It was baroque black, fit for mourning.Shined as…
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7 April: NaPoWriMo
A Double Fibonacci Sequence Poem Nature likes to hide itself. ~ Heraclitus Italladds upSubtract rainand chill of winterand add spring’s flush of white blossomedblackthorn, and then add the warming earth plus fiddleheads addredfor loveof tulip’sto the wanton witof squirrels, and birds making nestsand then watch the hungry caterpillars multiply. Written for Miz Quickly’s Day7 “Epigraphical” as a…
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6 April: NaPoWriMo
The Man Who Made Besoms I know a man, although I don’t think you ever know a man like him, who lived in a boathouse on the lake. He was stick-willow thin, hair wild and the colour of fire, he loved walking in razor-blade-like-rain. Had a beard the colour of grey mould. He spent his…
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5 April: NaPoWriMo
My Sister Doesn’t Write Poems When we were small, we shared the same bed. Grew up watching silver trout in the stream behind the house. Played with bubbles in the sunshine. Bound ourselves to wishes and love and each other. And she’d say things like harvesting a field of wheat just leaves a starving pattern,…
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4 April: NaPoWriMo “titles”
A Low Bench View How the massive and age-old chalk Breaks the sea’s penetrating rake Of this sceptre and emerald isle. How the light from winter’s lazy sun Pricks and twirls the water’s skin Where a churchyard edges our abyss. How its colours are spinning vertigo Of yellow, blue, white sand and pebbles. How time…
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3 April: NaPoWriMo “Doors”
The Sunny Side of the Door I’ve never dreamt of eating dusty bread, nor have I watched a field of red wheat grow. I’ve never wanted to be a man, even though I think women are beautiful. I’ve watched February snow as it melts into the black sound of rushing water. I’ve heard blackbirds sing,…
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3 April: Part 3 – The Colour of Walls
Previous instalments of this story: Part 1: The Pull Back Part 2: The Measure of Her Part 2: The Gatekeeper’s ResponsePart 3: The Colour of Walls Part 4: Tectonic Shifts Part 5: Out of the Frying Pan At an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintPart 3: The Colour of Walls When you’re in the middle of a street you…
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