Tag: Poetry
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AprPAD — Day 27
Afterward There Was the Afternoon a napin the afternoon sun, where poems wait birds arguingin hedges sunlighton warming soil breezesoscillating roots that resisted yesterdaybut not today the quiet satisfactionof looseningwhat does not belong weeding is good editorial practice, after all. keep what thrives.lift what crowds. make space for what wants light. and while I work,no…
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2704: A Different Six
Without Sense I am tired of men who grinwhile cities burn, of suitswho call it strategy, of flagsused as shrouds. I am tiredof the loud being mistakenfor strong, of crueltydressed as realism,of madnessgiven microphones while decent peoplecount coins,ration heat,and bury children. Do not ask mefor balance when the scale itselfis broken. Do not ask mefor…
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AprPAD — Day 26
Last Thing I’d Expect she says last Sundayshe woke with a rash. five days laterthe rash goestop to toe. all gone now — had a jab of somethingwith a long name. Giles has moved back home with his wife,and their dog. I comment on the carparkedin front of her house. she nods.that’s his. did I…
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AprPAD — Possible Intro
This one may become the opening poem for a Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge chapbook. Domestic Constellations I look at my husband, smile as if this were stilla beginning. He has views.He is Danish. A Vikingin modern synthetics creased into the armchairwith his newspaper, dry as kindling,sparking onlywhen it suits him. We makean unlikely map: married…
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The Old Woman With No Cat (part 1)
The For Sale Sign (Part 1) (A Cat’s Crisis of Convenience) The cat sits on the Old Woman’s fence,tail twitching like rhythmic panic. “Do you see that?” he hisses, eyes wide as saucers.“A sign.A literal sign.Your neighbours are selling my secondary residence.” The Old Woman sips her tea.“It’s their house, cat.Not yours.” “Semantics!I have a…
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The Old Woman With No Cat (Part 2)
THE SEAGULL DEBACLE (Part 2)(A Lesson in Avian Betrayal & Feline Accounting) The seagull —whose name is Keithand whose morals are negotiable agrees to the terms: One dramatic dive,one defaced sign,one endless chip buffet. He swoops.He squawks.He… misses. The S in “FOR SALE” now bears a chalky, dubious streak.It reads: “FOR ALE.” The cat stares.“You…
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AprPAD — Day 25
Happiness Remixed the leaves lift,bounce— wind under a wing. blackbird singing,not to be seen, though its tunecarries. magpie lands, finds a mealin betweenblades of grass. it’s a dayfor openingall the windows. Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: Remix. Not all images are created using Midjourney, but all writing is my…
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AprPAD — Day 24
Of Those Who Leave Mike is dying. Slowly enoughto count by months. December, pneumonia.January,his gallbladder gone. I take Lindy out for lunch, an afternoon awayfrom the smellsof the sick room. We talkabout ordinary things. The afternoon is hersfor the asking. She stares past the door,into the hallway, but her thoughts stopwhere her fingersgrip the fork.…
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2404: Liturgies of a 3rd Eye
Part 2: Liturgies for a Third Eye Liturgy for the Unpicking(for hands learning a new kind of sight) I. The Knot Does Not Know She Cannot SeeIt does not softenout of pity.It does not loosenits blind architecture. It waits,patient as stone,for her touchto learn its language. II. First ReckoningHer fingers fumble,a strangerin a darkened room.…
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AprPAD — Day 23
Wild Garlic (a juxtaposition poem) the creek runs deep in the gulley, sandbagged slopes. every winterit breaks its banks. I’m pickingwild garlic, tall stalks,white blossoms. then a dogsquats over the bestof it. Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: a juxtaposition poem. Image and poem ©Misky 2006-2026.
It's Still Life 