Tag: AI Digital Art
-
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,…
-
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…
-
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,…
-
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…
-
2 April: NaPoWriMo “twos”
Ne’er the Two Shall Meet These trees are wired for applauseWired for flute-ish duets for sprites. Iridescent Yellow-beak blackbirds on a branch,Straight and still as black Obsidian worry beads. Mistletoe and ivy drapes on your wrist,As blackbirds sing to their crone. Written for Miz Quickly’s Day 2 prompt and NaPoWriMo 2024, which is beyond an easy explanation…
-
1 April 24: NaPoWriMo “wet feet”
Her Wet Feet It’s late.It’s early.It’s the short season. Grey mirrored sky. Spring’swind and rain,snowdrops between rising grass through moss,pine needles,and brittle leaf mould. Fading daffodilsworms squirming underground,first bumbling bees in a tulip’s throat winter’s death proclaimed.First spring forest walka look at what’s outside. Wet Feet,cuffs flecked with mud,and down I go. Leather shoes slipinto…
-
31 March: 3 Lines for TLT
Between the top step of the porchAnd homeIs a door that needs a key. Written for TLT Ink In Thirds (3 lines max 10 words per line, refer to prompt word but don’t include it) prompt word “space”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images…
-
27 March: Part 2 – The Measure of Her
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 the Intersection of…
-
25 March: Grounded in Green
Grounded in Green By the old wooden footbridge is a creek that stays, most the year, racing into depths that calm its song. Through interwoven limbs of leafy oak and shade,there where I’ve whiled away my age into its past. From spring through autumn, I’m grounded at lastin greenery’s retreat, of quiet I’ve needed for…
-
19 March: A List Poem for a Sequoia
A List Poem for a Sequoia Bark in vertical plates of old weathered skin. Ravines. Deep as sky. Lungs of cilia breath. Clinging heart of ancient fantasy. Of petrichor scent, airborne as distant and unknown lovers. Of esters and alcohols. Of vanilla and pineapple. Cognac. A woodpecker’s sharp beak. Resin flows. Inspired by the music…