that we both remember childhood with the same memories of teachers, classmates and playground games. We both come from South London dandelion roots, splashing in puddles in tatty plimsolls – not boots, two friends in a gang of urchins, some lost, some found, roaming stairways, playing fields and waste grounds of the decades following the […]
Category: Poems
The Quality of Finger-Painting
Finger-painting is the quality of not worrying about the mess on your clothes, hands and face, and sharing the happiness of the child with whom you’re finger-painting. Finger-painting is being a cave-dweller, doing what comes naturally, while unleashing your inner Picasso, Kandinsky or Miro, even throwing a little paint like Pollock. Finger-painting rediscovers the child […]
A Breath of Sea Air
The gulling of waves takes our breath away, puffin and skirling with the chill. Latter-day Canutes, we crave to tern the sea away, but salt water cormorants and spills onto our feet. This day is another one that will stay in our hearts, a snapshot and a guillemot thrill. Kim M. Russell, 1st June 2023 […]
Riverbank
The riverbank beavers a hustle and bustle once spring is underway. A wagtailing wind tugs the last of the catkins throughout the month of May. Warblers and dippers fly over rivers that surge and swell with rain ‘til the sun otters out with a spiral of sparkles – the river’s alive again. Kim M. Russell, […]
Birdsong Bonanza
Dawn chorus is a wall of sound, wildest festival of the year; spring flowers and blossoms abound, and the summer will soon be here. When birdsong’s almost at its peak, dawn chorus is a wall of sound, blackbirds open their golden beaks to take part in the joyful round. Maytime magic is all around; in […]
Mary Alice Muted
She is muted, not just in colour.He has painted her in hues of dolour.and taken away her voice.I wonder, had it been her choice to find herself so portrayedin shades of violet, green and greyto the modern art world’s eyes,to be so closely scrutinised, or did she trust the artist’s view.Lacking softer tones of blue,I […]
Writing Freedom’s Wings
The pen was the key to the poet’s voice; the guards took it, and with it the poet’s choice. But they could not take unspoken words, could not stop images forming into nouns and verbs, which became feathers and then wings. Justice knows why the caged poet sings. Kim M. Russell, 16th May 2023 Image […]
Bathroom
I see her through the steam settling on tiles and glass, obscuring their usual gleam; she has no definition, no face until I wipe the surface clear. Her face is a mirror – I take a breath – understand that we share this face beyond death. Kim M. Russell, 15th May 2023 Image by Ria […]
Curators of the Night
They are busy on the night shift,dusting off star drift,polishing up the moon in all its forms.(It’s always being tarnished by space storms.) The library’s astronomerscans the sky for astral bodies, gathersmoons, and stars that fall to Earth,and shelves them until their monthly rebirth. They lend them out too,to people like me and you,romantics who […]
Memory’s Drift
Its leafy dome makes me think of you, the way you leaned against the willow tree, gazed through branches at a patch of blue – I knew I’d love you endlessly. In darkest shadows I begin to drift, aching for that happy summertime; now memory with ageing starts to shift, and poetry no longer rhymes. […]
writing in north norfolk 