I stir my coffee with a sticky spoon, feel the grit of sugar where my wrist rests on the table. Big clouds loom, push eastwards and then turn to mist. A rain shower comes and goes. Customers shake umbrellas and rain coats in the doorway of this sad café. In the steam, a small biplane […]
Talking to Myself (Again)
watery words weep steeped in hours of lonely thoughts talking to myself Kim M. Russell, 21st December 2015 words no longer weep solitude bears poetry seeds blown on the wind Kim M. Russell, 21st April 2019 My response to Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #81 Poetry Archive (5) … loneliness or emptiness The weekend has come around […]
Maenad Madness
What you doing with that ivy, sister? Pretending it’s a snake like that one on Instagram. Didn’t we get wasted last night, man! Yeah, we had a right scream! My lips are still black with all the red wine. My head’s all over the place with ecstasy. LOL – mine’s so bad I can’t see. […]
Poetic Pollen
I inhale yellow: pollen dances on sunlight inhabiting air. Two geese overhead; their wing beats stir the cherry pink and freshly bloomed. Pollen-dusted bees zip in and out of flowers – honeyed promises. Kim M. Russell, 20th April 2019 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Weekend Mini-Challenge, in April: Three Spring Shorts Magaly […]
Fickle
April is a fickle month: she trips a teetering path through trees mad with ticking, tuneful birds, waking butterflies and bees. She dodges scattered earth and rocks behind a plough; sprinkles tender leaves and shoots with showers; spreads green foam through winter’s mud and, in lengthening evening hours, plays with last thrills of light. Kim […]
Japanese Parsley
parsley flowers tied in ikebana knots luck and happiness Kim M. Russell, 20th April 2019 My response to Carpe Diem #1651 dropwart (seri), Japanese parsley In today’s episode we have another classical kigo taken from the Shiki saijiki: dropwart (seri) or Japanese parsley, which comes from a broad range of herbs in the parsley family. […]
Message from Planet Prose
Different planets cross paths, orbit each other and regularly align with meteor tales and showers of imagery. There are no aliens on planet prose, merely light waves and white noise coming together every now and then in poetic symphony. Kim M. Russell, 18th April 2019 My response to […]
