Category: Poems Inspired by Artists, Music and Other Writers

The Beauty of Scars

The world can’t change its heart of scars, they are tattooed on every inch: silver words of sorrow and hurt birthing poems from blood and dirt, reminding us where we began and giving hope that we might end in a place where everyone appreciates the beauty of scars. Kim M. Russell, 4th April 2019 My […]

Smudged

The day has not yet ended, we’re not ready for our beds, and the moon’s already rising while the sun’s on the horizon, smudging trees and meadows into charcoal shadows – a momentary impasse, a blur of branches, leaves and grass until the stars come out to play and night ink-washes day away. Kim M. […]

The Point of Return

pristine pages of                 possibility flutter out the window into the                                sky fragile words on wings of air hovering ready to fall ­                                    […]

This poet needs…

to ease the itch of words that wake her up at night; to sing in a different language, one with imagery and bite; to linger in lines where no other poet has been yet; to smile to herself when other people get where she comes from and what she needs. Kim M. Russell, 24th January […]

Sonnet to a Poet’s Hands

The young man’s hands were slender, quick and strong, composing sonnets to his unknown muse, creating worlds in drama and in song to challenge the emotions and amuse. The busy writer’s hands were stained with ink and words. His skin was cracked and raw with rhyme. The scratching of the pen spurred him to think […]

Mothspell

I wander in the standing stones, gather objects for potions: hemlock parts and gossamer, eye of toad and an owl’s feather. A celestial light show sparks and suddenly, without a flutter, a moth is trapped in a halo of moonlight and I am  rapt; lured by a death head’s powdered pinion – a fatal attraction. […]

Angels and Stars

Stone angels form a guard of honour outside a mausoleum door visible from the open gate where the mourners assemble and wait. Whether it’s a simple grave or tomb, when hair, nails and flesh are gone all that’s left is stardust and bone. Kim M. Russell, 1st November 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden with […]

10th October 1992

(a traced poem inspired by ‘Moment’ by Carol L. Gloor) At the moment of our reunion, I am cooking vegetarian lasagne. No meat, no male scent in this house of females, only the exhaust of distance. I hadn’t seen you in twenty years. I recognised you, the younger you I left behind. I am back […]