Tag: jusjojan
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3rd February: Snagged
Snagged I’m like petulant weather,a martyr to salt-cures for scars and apathy, And today, I snagged my armon a canine-toothed thorn of a rose bush, Something prolificrolled off my ownerless tongue, but When the rain comes,it’ll wash that secret language out of my head. For Linda Hill’s JusJoJan “Canine”. It took a while for my head…
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22 January: A Belligerence
A Belligerence What is it, thiscatch in my eye, thatblack ozonal identity.A fleeting shadowreflecting on the sky. What is it that offends my eye, what electrical impulse,what psychic uprooting.What phantom illnessbrewed this broken wisdom. War is a suicide foundry,a belligerence. A road to hell. written for Linda’s JusJoJan Day 20 “Phantom”. AI Digital Art is mine…
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20 January: A Dream Again
A Dream Again Like a feather, or the grey shadeof a tree. I’m falling into myself,dropped and tossed into a dream. And I’m telling my sister thatlife’s all or nothing. And she’s quoting scripture at me,as if she’s a chip off an angel, saying Jesus fed them bread and fishes. And I’m thinking is the…
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19 January: Word of the Day: Merryneum
Word of the day is Merryneum: the blurry space between Christmas and mid-January. AI Digital Art is mine and created using Midjourney’s bot (v4). Image and poem ©Misky 2023 Shared on Twitter #jusjojan #amwriting @midjourney
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18 January: dVerse Winter
A Black Bare Twig I am whiteness and droning drear,woolly and wet,a slipped cold mask,a drumming ear. Huddle ’round your woodburners,seek that whirring fanof warmth against your skin. Garb your hat and scarf and socks.I am the ice underfoot,your skates cutand track my spine, your children embed me with laughter.I am a dark galaxy,winter’s chariot.Gather…
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17 January: for JusJoJan Day 16
It’s Called Yididiilo, I Think Yididiilo.I think that’s Somalian for ‘optimistic’, and she certainly is, thinking thata bus will stop here. She has a time schedule, andshe wants to go places likeNutfield. And Redhill. And go to that farm shop across fromthe betting shop, next to whereBlockbusters used to be, although it’s a bingo hall…
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12 January: A Season’s Edge
A Season’s Edge The air breathes through me in glass clear notes. Sweetly sad, my mind, like a grieving heart on the edge of happy memories. And there! Primroses in the snow. Spring! Spring! I catch its pleasure, thankful I’ve survived another winter. Inhale its periwinkle breath. Forget me not, I whisper. Forget me not.…
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10 January: #JusJoJan Periwinkle
Watching There’s a blank wave webbing across the pond, and quarrelling ducks under the influence of a boy throwing stale bread. He wipes his nose on his cuff, and throws more bread at the clear periwinkle sky. And a 200-year old oak is watching all this. Written for JusJoJan 10 Jan: periwinkle. usAI Digital Art is…
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Q3+1: The Café of Imaginary Dreams
TWO EGGS OF IMAGINARY DREAMS My waitress … is it still waitress or is it a waitperson now… is standing over meand staring across the street.I think she’d ratherbe working over there. And she says,You ready to order? She shifts from one foot…
It's Still Life 