once we spent all day in bed exploring without maps deep diving and emerging to kindle more desires lighting forest fires now we warm our hands on the embers of our fading skin basking in the afterglow Kim M. Russell, 20th November 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Tuesday Poetics: Desire and Sexuality in […]
Orchids in Autumn
while outside leaves drift orchids bloom in the kitchen blush on a grey day Kim M. Russell, 20th November 2018 My response to Carpe Diem #1548 orchids (ran) (classical kigo) Today we have a classical kigo for autumn to work with: ‘orchid’ (ran). We also have a haiku by Buson on Ran, written in 1777: […]
A poem in a new anthology
I received copies of this wonderful little anthology at the weekend! You can buy it directly from The Emma Press, I’ve heard that it’s already on the shelf at Waterstones and it’s also available from Amazon, where there’s only one left in stock: https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=The+Emma+Press+Second+Place+Rosette The poems in this book are varied and fabulous. Mine is […]
Spoils of Autumn
Autumn spoils us with its music, a seasonal soundscape of rain-swollen becks, leaves fluttering from the oaks and raucous, cavorting rooks echoing through the mist before winter’s deep silence grips the landscape and days stretch ahead taut as a tightrope above cold iron earth. Kim M. Russell, 19th November 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]
The Day Starts with a Papier-Maché Cat
it is seen in the papier-maché cat the morning of autumn the rising sun on its back […]
After Rain
the scent of autumn that sweet smell of decaying leaves stronger after rain the scent of autumn seasonal melancholy distilled in amber that sweet smell of decaying leaves wraps the drowsy soil a golden blanket stronger after rain it mingles with petrichor colour turns to grey Kim M. Russell, 18th November 2018 My response to […]
Skyful of Hope
On a moist and mizzling day, my skin is pearled with gossamer mist, eyes wide with the expanse of grey above me, dotted with a scattering of distant birds. There is only emptiness and portents of winter in the yawning sky, and the days seem filled with loneliness. But when evening comes and the cloud […]
