‘Someone has a great fire in his soul and nobody ever comes to warm themselves at it, and passers-by see nothing but a little smoke at the top of the chimney and then go on their way’ – Vincent van Gogh A fire roared in his soul. All his neighbours saw was smoke; they gossiped […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
To My Unborn Grandson
Dearest boy, I am counting down the days and knitting. I am amazed at the butterflies of anticipation, imagining your eyes, mouth and nose, your tiny fingers and toes, the fresh-baked smell from the top of your head. I can’t wait to sing the songs I once sang to your mother, and the ones mine […]
Concepts and Metaphors
Under an overflowing ashtray sky, the train stops. Frost seethes on scrubby sidings, where naked trees stretch pale, angular limbs. The engine rumbles and we’re gliding towards the tunnel of night, on tracks lit up with winter aconite. Kim M, Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Finding \Emotions and Concepts in Things, […]
The Possibility of Snow
Snow surprise transforms and lifts an otherwise grey February day, delighting children and the young at heart with play. But my hands are blue, my fingers burn, and my bones creak at every turn. The possibility of snow this week makes my insides churn. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: […]
Morning Conversations
You lift my hair like a cool breeze and kiss my ear; I’m the only one who’ll hear in the thundering silence of early morning. Everyone else is asleep or deaf to the poem that hums in my head, thrums like a guitar string, chatters like the sparrows in the hedgerows. Even when you trumpet, […]
No Alcohol Required
I get drunk on poetry and music, no alcohol required. You can keep your wine and beer; I love the cool, clear trickle of unadulterated nectar, must of grape and amber glow of apple and pear. No acidic burn of embarrassment, no hang- over, no regrets. I can still laugh at cheesy jokes, sing along […]
Shades of Grey
Grey is how I saw the world in my early childhood: in monochrome newspapers, television and old photographs. It seemed as if two world wars had leached all colour. And then it returned in the sixties. My nan had a drawer in her bedroom dressing table which was full to the brim with black and […]
Mid-February
Winter – saturated by a winnowing wind, bare branches are ready to yield to spring. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse poets Pub Meeting the Bar: Brevity — Five Lines This Thursday Frank is hosting Meeting the Bar and the theme today is brevity. We are writing poems with no more than five […]
Dream in a Teacup
Cradled in a teacup, her infused dream intertwines and rises with fragrant steam. She drowsily waits for lips to press porcelain and savour the sweetness of flowers of jasmine, lotus and hibiscus, unfurling below the liquid meniscus. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Inspired by Art! – also linked to […]
Morning Murmur
Streams trickle and ditches chuckle with last night’s rain; it giggles in puddles in the muddy lane and glistens on the window pane. In the gloom of my morning room, where merging shadows whisper, I just murmur, pull up the duvet and turn over. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: […]
writing in north norfolk 