Unexpected Bells

‘The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of flowers.’ Matsuo Basho Silence drips into the sodden solitude of a deep druidic wood, goose-pimple chilled and tangle wild. All at once, the path Is broken by a sunny glade scattered with spikes of new nettle growth and, ringing through the leafy […]

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 […]

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 […]

Frida’s Reality

“I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.” Frida Kahlo Mexican heat invades each night, pervades the frangible seams and transmutes dreams to nightmares, thickly oiling the barren landscape vivid, livid with pain. Morning arrives again with the promise of reality, a canvas to daub with certainty self-portraits of her truth. Kim M. Russell, […]

Sitting on the bottom step…

I wondered what lurked in the landing’s shadows. I listened to the creak of breathing wood and the wash of my imagination’s shallows. I whispered to the upstairs ghosts mollifying volleys of hallos and showers of secrets and prayers – just making sure they stayed upstairs. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden […]