to open the ramshackle gate and enter a shadowy place where gems masquerade as pebbles and bones; disturb the sleep of a petrified gnome; dig up burly clods of mud that turn into unblinking toadstones? Do you dare to feed them with earth-bound worms that squirm with spells cast in sifted loam; to purse your […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
Leaving the Library
Inside the library, readers are turning leaves, devouring stories and stuffing words up sleeves to ponder at their leisure, while some are just hiding from the autumn weather. Outside the library and just inside the door, brittle leaves skitter in huffs of dust across the floor, cart-wheeling freely, while some are just hiding from the […]
Ghost Nets
I read recently about an exhibition that took place in the summer at the Asian Civilisations Museum in Singapore, called ‘Ghost Nets of the Ocean’. It was created by artists from Darnley Island in Australia, and consisted of suspended brightly-coloured sculptures of fish, turtles, squid and jellyfish, all made from ocean debris, including abandoned fishing […]
Too Late for Blackberries
This year I missed the clusters, drupelets of ruby and jet that glowed with autumn lustre and others unripe as yet. I was too busy being a poet caught in imaginative rambles to pick sweet fruit from brambles. Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Form for All — Chaucerian Stanza or […]
Defrosted Landscape
The power cut was over, the lights came on and the TV muttered to life. They opened my door to fetch a few bottles of beer and then forgot about me, standing in the shadows, my mushy insides knotting with ice crystals, shuddering. A week later, they found it, the source of a lingering stink they […]
Hope
Hope is a drop of water in the midst of drought; a small boat without oars but plenty of room if we squeeze together; footprints in the dust that lead to somewhere safe; a kind hand and an honest smile on a stranger’s face. Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to dVerse Poets Quadrille: Hope […]
Hauling in Winter
The ocean sings a melancholy tune with its infinite whispers of tide and moon. Whiskey coloured waves wash and tumble sand, where fishermen haul in, hand over hand, a net of jelly fish and tangled mermaid tails, shark fins and teeth, up to the whale- backed dunes, where the season gives russet hair a haughty […]
Nobel
no church bell no alarm bell just the body clock warning and a stormy morning outside the window later, the man on the radio says the Nobel prize for literature has been awarded to Kazuo Ishiguro, whose stories will never let me go unconsoled in the pale view of hills, an artist of the floating […]
Click
queues no, crowds no need no patience for to wait no time buy we on-line dissatisfaction we unload media on social to never people met we have politicians and celebrities of headlines in a blizzard sensational of stories if clicks no more there were the nettle grasp we might face of face to conversation human […]
Frost Whispering
There are many things that I love about autumn: the kaleidoscope of ruby, amber and citrine foliage; the pungent smell of undergrowth and damp soil; mysterious mist and fog; and the first early morning frost sketching cobwebs and snail trails with its silver touch. Fresh frost is silent until I listen closer – and hear […]