There’s a sparkling space between orchestra and clear soprano voice, a tragic butterfly in a bell jar, bright wings shimmering before she’s pinned. Puccini’s signature violins swirl and an incidental flute curls, a ship’s smoke on the far horizon, as Cio-Cio-San’s dream spills: one fine day, she’ll see Pinkerton climbing up the hill. The voice, […]
Category: Poems Inspired by Artists, Music and Other Writers
Sharp
Sharp-eyed and sharp-bladed, she emerges from the depths of the forest, where sharp grasses tangle and slice, vibrant berries belie poison and piercing thorns, and creatures crawl and creep, curious to see such beauty shining through the shadows. Sharp-eyed and sharp of tooth, they emerge from the depths of the forest, hungry for forgotten beauty. […]
Waiting for the Wind
The sky above the fields is patched with clouds; the pale and wild blue yonder gapes through ragged holes, wrestling with purple mist to peep, making promises it may never keep. All the while, the green hill’s spine is stretched out on the far horizon, where it meets with heaven smiling at the steadfast grass […]
Back to the Garden
What will we do when satellites fall from space, when sky is sky and not an overwhelming channel choice? Besides, nature shows would have nothing to show us when most species are extinct. We’ll have to make do with whatever is left in the wilderness of our back garden. Offer me fruit and maybe we […]
Play for Me
Backlit by counterpoints of sunlight, your face a harmony of shadows, fingers merge with black and white, release major chords of red and yellow, and mournful minors, grey and blue. They shift between darkness of minus and lightness of plus, shades of you and me, until a sunbeam, dotted with motes of a melody, breaks […]
Children at a Refugee Camp
Wide eyes and swollen bellies, bruises on the soul: honeyed drips of birdsong. Kim M. Russell, 27th April 2019 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Poems in April Day 27: In a Station of the Metro Today Toni is hosting and she reminds us that there are only three more days to go […]
Rain
These curtains so accurately drawn in water on my windowpane remind me of briny tears, the way they ran in perfect vertical lines down the misty windscreen with the broken windscreen wiper that day on the storm tossed seafront. Even the urchin seagulls hugged the gritty beach. Who knew that distance could hurt so much? […]
