Tag: ekphrastic poetry
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6 March: For Sunday Muse
In A Dream With Turquoise Walls There once was a dreamthe colour of Seychelles’ sea,the colour of originsand maternal longing,and there was a swanwho dreamt it saton a young woman’s breasts,thinking that with timethose soft eggs might hatchinto creamy white. Written for Sunday Muse #249. A.I. Digital Artwork is created using Midjourney. Imagery and poems ©Misky…
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10 January: for VV’s January Anthology
That Speckled Grey There was a man. And there was a horse that was the colour of pebbles, assuming that pebbles are speckled grey, and this man had a horse, or at least that’s what he thought, but facts, being facts, always aren’t because this horse had a man and this horse juggled its man…
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15 June: Petite Pen
Wilt Nothing happens – and yeteverythingwilts at her feet. for Petite Pen image by Ron Hicks ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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4 May: The Allotment
Allotment If I wrote a book, I’d call it Allotment, andthere’d be a young woman who tendedher compost bin as if nothing else mattered.She’d wear a green frayed edge jumper. And there’d be a young man who dreamedof marrying her. They’d have lots of children,grow their own veggies, always organic,and keep hens that would eat…
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03.03.22 dVerse Ekphrastic Poetry
A Poem Inspired By Joseph Farquharson’s Painting A Slip Against the Wind The sky is whiteas pork fat, the heatherburnt by cold.A mother and three bairninch steps against the wind.March on, their mother says,March until it’s spring.A mother and three bairnare a slip against the wind. for dVerse Poets Ekphrastic March prompt. Featured painting is by Joseph…
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11.02.22 GoDogGo Cafe Book Titles
This Thing Between Us Her hands are softand her fingers sticky. A pear for dessert.The sweetness lingers. The sight of her smile,like a tattoo, never leaves you. And the smells of smokeis body heat, I think. And every night she walks her cat.Alone. Alone with that cat. She says the sun is too hot,and the…
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For VV’s November Issue
A Different Sky I love airships and blimps.Huge. As big as a dinosaur.They fly past one another,and steal each other’s lightas their hinged wings spendthe air like copper pennies. I love the sound of rain poundingthe tarpaulin above my head. I love to fly with the rising sun,love to hear the wind shrill andrushing into…
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Refrains
From One Refrain to the Next Back then, when I lived life as if it were a song, when each minute was a note, each day its refrain, when a rude suggestion could make me blush red, back then I thought I’d be content to reach 50, maybe die blowing out my birthday candles. Back…
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Day 2 AprPAD
Above All That Bit by bit, I’ll do my bit, too, ‘cause I know a boy who’s magnetic. A mettle personality. But he won’t go out in the rain; says he’ll rust. He giggles at rocks, too. And stones. Sees the joke of them, the humour. Laughs his head off when he holds one. Says…
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We Brought Down the House
image by “They All Slept Here” by Ilenia Pezzaniti. Poem written for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge for September 2016, and dVerse Open Night
It's Still Life 