How did the flaming falsehoods start? You brought a pot of carmine petals as a ticket to her heart. You swooped with cardinal flowers to validate your fiction, but the firm line of her crimson lips confirmed her comprehension. Geraniums aren’t perjurious, they cannot hide their shame; only roses know the secret of the fabrication […]
Category: Poems
You and Me
together in lamp’s twilight pool you and me cup of tea TV glows in the corner quiet and content Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads You and Me This week Marian tells us about her love of Alice Cooper, a recent concert and the song ‘You and Me’. She […]
Carved
An old track forges its way, draws seams through fields pierced and riddled with flint. Winding and following the contours of the valley, it hurdles the backbone of a hilly landscape, past a wind-carved rock of elephantine grey, a hollowed out echo of an ancient voice from long ago. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response […]
Bluebell Wood
Beech trees are coming into leaf, upper limbs foaming with translucent green leaves, softly crimped; all the spaces in between are dusted with bluebells and wood anemones. Lazuline seeps through branches, pools and floods: memories of childhood’s chimeless campanology and carpets of sky. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif ~ […]
Prodigal Soul
Life had become a no-man’s land bristling with blackened stumps and fallen trunks, an ancient bog where once a forest grew – until the fog of despair doused the light that had burned strong and bright, destroyed by passion out of control. Shrouded peat was pocked with charcoal and twisted roots eroded toxic soil. Between […]
Ocean Graveyard
Out on the nightmare sea, pitched and tossed by waves and misrepresented mermaid’s octaves ships approach the graveyard of negligence, the locker of Davy Jones, with its stash of pearls and gnarled bones nullified, picked clean and white by Neptune’s unleashed parasites. While gulls plane a sea breeze on stiffly out-stretched wings, you can’t move […]
On a soft morning…
rain strokes the earth, greening leaves and grass, the porter scent of turf smoke fills the hills and, in the river, water chuckles at a joke, a limerick or the jaunty song a musician whistles on the long road home from a late night session and whispers in the rover’s ear: go n-éirí an bóthar […]
Phantom Shadorma
snow ghosts drift in a late blizzard rags tattered dignity phantoms of the fantastic suspended in ice and we hide behind heavy drapes misty panes bated breath while winter and spring battle it out once again Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar: Phantom Form – Shadorma Amaya is […]
Growing Old
I may have a senior railcard and silver streaks in my hair, but my fallen leaves rustle and sing like the dancing leaves of early spring. No flying south for winter, I’m no grizzled, dingy skipper but a quiet blue or marbled white, gently fanning the paling light. When I pull on my Dr Marten’s […]
Shepherd’s Warning
Early this morning the sky screamed at me a red warning that echoed off branches and filled the garden with icy chill so I filled my lungs with daybreak and screamed back. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Scream Sumana asks us if we have ever come to that […]
