Tag: Poetry
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25 January: Ink In Thirds
She walks, following the curve of the road,Footprints in the snow, winter-withered plantsAnd a low sky stubbornly grey. Written for Ink in Thirds: Three Line Thursday. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.
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20 January: Her Sentinel Trees
Her Sentinel Trees These are her sentinel trees,watchers of her comings and goings.It’s the second Friday of the month,frost holding the air low and steadyas she leans back against a birch tree. She, once a child of its slow growingseed says to the tree, tell me a storyabout a young woman who ran awayto the…
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18 January: Postmortem on a Dead Poet’s Desk
A Postmortem on a Dead Poet’s Desk This room was my poverty,my turnpike,crumpled papers and rough scrawl.Piles of A4 lined paper, and smudged scraps and fragmentswind-blown left and right for this postmorteminto a poet’s notebooks, into drawers,and ink splashes on her desk,and if ink be bloodas it is to a surgeon’s knife, then this woman…
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16 January: Magpies, Crows, and a Heron
There’s a magpie walking around the garden with an apple core in its mouth – sounds like a wire of wind within its throat. Yesterday, there were two crows fighting over a bone bigger than they were long, both in moods like darkening sky. My neighbour has a fish pond, koi, I think they are,…
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15 January: RDP and SSS
Dear Gran, It is January, and the garden freezes and thaws, and then freezes again as if tortured in inches by phantom kicks. The herbs mostly survive: rosemary remains vigorous, although the sage yielded to a hoar frost and snow, dying a valiant death – my warrior sage – my wise old sage, and the…
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12 January: Timelessness
Timelessness The brick wallby the milking shed is old.Older than anyone’smemory goes.And ferns sproutbetween weather-gnawed bricks,ledges like untidy eyebrows,and green growswithout direction or restriction.And the sun rises overthat wall in the morning.Slowly. Slowas the neighbour’sgreen-eyed catwhen its name is called.Everythingmoves at its own pace here. A poem inspired by a paragraph in Bleak House by…
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12 January: #TLT – Ink In Thirds
Sunrise frost, January’s mistress,A pine bough, silver bells, and scented lair,This winter’s vagrant heart stares. Written for Ink in Thirds “morning” – Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2023.
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11 January: A White Wolf for dVerse
White Wolf This wolf, white as light,single-minded, truth and insight,sees through my human stories. The ones I believe of myself.The ones I ask others to believe.The ones I trim for appearance sake. And those storieshave substance,and my substance casts dark shadows. Stories are shadows, and reflections,so if the wolf is light,I am the one casting…
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10 January: dVerse Quadrille
Skeletal Tonight’s sunset is tinged scarlet,bleeding into the lagoon, outbeyond, into the lake, falling throughsummer-thick shrubs beyond twilighted memories where something of the past joinsskeletons of rowboatsin soured brackish water, rottinglike a black heart. And the setting sun shivers. Written for dVerse Quadrille “Lagoon”. A Quadrille poem is 44-words (san title) Some artwork is created using…
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8 January: For Six Sentence Story
Careful. There’s that word again; meant to pull you up and stop you in your tracks; take stock; change your ways; a word to the wise or the unwise as the case might be. And he says, “Good god, it’s dreary outside. And I’m standing beside him at the window, taking in this man I…
