I remember my first 5th November: I was five, bundled up in coat, knitted gloves, scarf and hat, breathing smoke and stars, a fizzing sparkler in my hand, spellbound by the Catherine wheel spinning sparks on the garden fence – it cost Grandad sixpence. © Kim M. Russell, 2016 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille […]
Category: Poems
Art Therapy
The child deconstructs her picture, scraping curls of black crayon; swirls of firework wraiths appear and a hive of red, orange and yellow bees swarms from the smoke of a waxy night. Opposite her, a woman, bright and bedizened in gold rings, ear hoops and bangles that glitter in the flecks of kind eyes, searches […]
The World Within
Like those painted Russian dolls, They organised her World within a world. Living out of suitcases, Tended like a hot–house orchid, Feeling like a caged bird, Everything was planned. She lived through music, The only language Everyone can understand, And danced late at night In her hotel room to her favourite Rock and roll band. […]
The Poet Answers
Answer Morning – Where is the moon – Where are the stars – Where are the dreams? Ah, said Morning – Where is the dew – Where are the birds – Where are the poems? Sparkled the Sun – Where is your pen – Where are the words – Where are the rhymes? Here, said […]
Life’s No Joke
some of us are jokers, some thieves, whichever way you look at it, whether young or old, life is not a joke life’s no joke for barefoot children cold and sad on the streets, homeless, hungry, innocent and robbed of their dreams life’s no joke for the old and tired, foggy with confusion: abandoned by […]
Midnight Horror Story
Midnight sculpts moonlight shadows of horror to drink your dreams and suck your screams, sealing your lips with monstrous kisses. Too terrified to open your eyes, you’re paralysed. Your thrash metal heart beats out of time with the night creatures’ call, a chilling signal for the living dead to rise. Cloaked in the foulest funk, […]
One Man’s Kindness in No Man’s Land
Tattered faceless silhouettes Staggered across no-man’s land, Fumbling to attach bayonets, Unkind weapons in shaky hands. Wisps of men blundered in thick of gas Back to the comfort of a mud-filled trench, Eyeless heroes in useless masks Smothering in the toxic stench. One innocent soldier wandering wide, Heading for trenches on the other side, Felt […]
Forging Morning
The sky is a confusion Of purple contusion And burning orange light. Heaven and earth are forged Together, clouds are gorged With flames so bright The road is gilded, Clouds and tarmac melded In the liquid metal aftermath of night. © Kim M. Russell, 2016 My response to Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday photo prompt […]
October Mourning
Morning Is born with a caul Of mist on sharp, clear light, Ripped by the raucous call Of leftover scraps of night: Coal-dusted ravens and crows Hunched in ragged rows, Their sharp eyes like sloes Clustering in the blackthorn. In moisture-laden air, time slows In anticipation of dazzling hues: Ochre, rust and foggy blues To […]
The Benevolence of Barnacles
Watching over the vessel with cold periscope eyes, They partially bury the mine-damaged bow Of the shadowy hulk that was lost for a century, Tucked thirty metres deep below the North Sea. In the windy gaze of a marram-swept coast, Buoying crumbling bones in a crusty embrace, Barnacles embellish the skin of the conning tower, […]
writing in north norfolk 