In a graveyard of crumbling bones, lichen blemishes untended stones, erases brief life stories of the dead waiting for the world to turn back. Their remains have succumbed to worm and maggot, but their souls still dwell in established heartlands and monuments, splashed with light that shifts with overhanging leaves, are touchstones for the afterlife […]
I’m pleased that Visual Verse has included my poem in August’s issue. It was inspired by a cute image of a swimming pig by Jakob Owens. You can either click here to see the image, read all of the poems and find mine on page 31, or you can go directly to ‘Lies About Pigs‘.
Our bodies unfurl and then curl into each other under night’s cover. We are waves in motion on an inky ocean or sand-blown stones hidden in a desert’s undertones. We are intertwined limbs, hearts, souls and minds, dancing in the dark until we spark – stars falling in the empty sky of morning. Kim M. […]
The annihilator rises and dons his crown of peaks tinged red with blood and dawn. At his feet, leafless trees feign death, mighty forests bristling with dread, and convocations of eagles take wing, their obedient beaks sharpened to do his bidding; and we, like timid rabbits, scutter for shelter from the emperor’s apocalyptic helter skelter. […]
It’s a lifetime since we rode the red bus from Twickenham to Kew, me and you, and walked among the trees: blossoms in spring and – in autumn – leaves. We listened […]
as a cat watching a butterfly or a falling leaf after a restless night of heat twisted in the sweaty sheet until the sky cracked and light crept under my half- closed eyelids now I am still as the leaves and the grass held by morning coolness Kim M. Russell, 25th July 2019 My response […]
“At any given moment in the middle of a city there’s a million epiphanies occurring, in the blurring of the world beyond the curtain.” Kate Tempest, Let Them Eat Chaos I once saw a woman peering at the world from behind a net curtain in the middle of Venice in the middle of thick fog. […]