in the middle of a field eyes squeezed tightly shut mouth open wide fingers in ears sound is suspended now and then a motorbike roars and whines cars hum in the distance senses open to patch of blue taste of earth and thud of heart Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to dVerse Poets Pub […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
Discovering the White Rabbit
After early showers on a capricious Saturday in May, lunchtime is bathed in balmy sunshine. The shady toll path bustles with strollers and joggers, all inhaling spring’s steamy promise, and echoes with a coxswain’s voice counting rowers’ strokes. On the opposite bank, a swan stretches; alert to danger, she watches over cygnets hidden in a […]
Sad Pathetic Fallacy
The world was disappointing, dry and thirsty, full of sadness, longing for some artistic creativity, when the slate sky flickered with metallic electricity. Thunder rumbled. The brawling river, rushing with rain-swollen flow, swung into a roaring curve below towards a thundering waterfall, rearing in glassy surges, snagging on the riverbed, like King Lear on the heath: […]
The Poet’s Kitchen
A Sunday morning treat I like to make is crumpets topped with a mixture of cheese, spring onions and mayonnaise. First you have to prepare the topping by grating plenty of tangy mature cheddar cheese in a bowl. Cut up the spring onions nice and fine, inhale their fresh, green scent, and stir them into […]
Parole
What has been imprisoned under the lawn all winter? Frozen mud, rendered malleable by spring warmth, releases rusty skeletons of ginger bud cases, last spring’s copper fairy lights. Stones and flint jingle underfoot, sigh a heavy scent from crumbly lumps of black earth, exuding worms from clumps, evicting glossy beetles from ivy tangled in the […]
Waves
“These waves are claws, the boat is caught in them, you can feel it.” Theo van Gogh’s reaction to Hokusai’s ‘Under the Wave off Kanagawa’ Hokusai’s vivid emotion echoes, a great wave of Prussian blues, each line curling, echoing in its own splash, all born of a daily exorcism to limber up the brush: painting […]
Echoes of Bluebell Woods
Between the trees it’s blue, as if the sky had fallen and been transformed into nodding blooms, all-knowing fairy traps of truth. It’s a soft echo of blue, a Beltane pool to dive into and be swept away by a current of old magic. Kim M. Russell, 2017 Image found on Pinterest My response to […]
Sounds from Saturn
Noises from the eerie vacuum inside Saturn’s rings are sucked out, dying silently in the sad, black void. If we listen, we can hear pops and cracks in the near- total emptiness of space tinnitus, of charged particles and atoms, our audio postcards home. Kim M. Russell, 2017 (Picture: EPA) A quadrille for dVerse Poets […]
A Taste for Arsenic
I resist the urge to touch my tongue to the toxic crystals, leaden grey, stir the poison in, although not so long for it to eat the spoon away. Not a year have I been his wedded wife and already his voice has a steely edge like the sharpened blade of the butcher’s knife in […]
Twisted
When I lived in London, I owned a silver Mini Ritz with a brilliant sound system. During the summer holidays, I would take my daughter to work with me as I had a colleague with a girl of the same age and they would play together at her house, which was just down the road. […]
writing in north norfolk 