Tag: November Poem a Day
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Day 18
I. Those are steep stairs to heaven with no lifts or levers in sight. II. To move between moments like an acorn free-falling to ground. III. And then wind and chill as winter arrived like an aching tooth. IV. An unremembered dream sent mad in dawn’s lingering drizzle. V. Sunlight slowed the storm in my…
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Day 15
MQ15: One for Paris There was an odd return, a twinge, as I stood in Gare de Nord station. Not that it‘s anything at all like Paddington or Union Station, and it wasn’t the tearful embrace of weekend lovers separating, or wives waving off their husbands, neither was it the speedy click and slap of…
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Day 13
PA 13 Found Poetry from “The Book of Questions” by P Neruda. PA: a persona poem ©️ Misky 2019 It’s November Poem a Day month. These are 1st drafts
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Day 11
A Bite of Blind Cold (or the voice of wind) On a morning like this — with the northeast wind washing off glacial land and singing operatics as intense as a fever and screaming like a whore you’re more than a voice MQ 11 more than a voice and PA Day 10 “blank…
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Day 8
PA 08 the dog is dead buried under the hellebore that blooms soft pink at the end of winter. PA Day 8: a pet poem ©️ Misky 2019 It’s November Poem a Day month. These are 1st drafts
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Day 9
Of Common Place I come from a common mind where the human hand creates “things”, we embrace them — and name them. Purple lilacs that aren’t lilacs, they’re buddleia. Red geraniums that aren’t — they’re pelargoniums. Marigolds that aren’t; they’re tagetes asteraceae, but a rose by any other name is never as bright as Mexican…
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Day 7.1
Knee High Compression Socks mostly stripes some spots mostly those called compression keeps things moving keeps ankles from exploding mostly black a few blue two burgundy one greyish hue but mostly stripes and some spots. PA 07 An article of clothing ©️ Misky 2019 It’s November Poem a Day month. These are 1st…
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MQ 06: In the Beginning
In the Beginning This small child, sits like a ripening apple with her Tinkerbell face and kumquat mouth, and one day she’ll be keen on sardines with onion and chilli ketchup, and she’ll watch the sunny sky unfold its darkness, but for now, she’s future’s child, and there’s nothing in her face that suggests intellect…
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MQ 06
Somewhere Along the Snake River A few years ago, my sister and I were on a road trip through Idaho. She was driving, and we burned off miles reminiscing, mostly childhood stuff. And she said she remembered lots of things Mum and Dad said to her when she was a baby, long before she could…
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PA05 and dVerse
PA 05 A Crow’s Pleasure black crow with its patent leather shine, snagged a brown shrew on its cold hook grab. carried it off under fatal wings, carried it off on ragged winds. heard its final yip, its faded death call. waxen stiff its small wordless voice. up high, even higher, over a black slow…
It's Still Life 