I would love to go to Snardiff on the rhambangle train but I’ve heard that in Snardiff it’s likely to rain cats and dogs, if it’s not spitting leaves or feathers; it’s known to the locals as snardiffanous weather. If I don’t go, it’s no calamity because it’s dry and warm at home and full of […]
Tag: Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
A Poem Comes to Life
The white bones of a poem long for words, flesh of their existence. Wily words prick, leaving indelible tattoos on the poet’s soul, squirming onto a page, punctuated with Rorschach blots. The poet splits into three: artist, scribe and critic talk among themselves. Kim M. Russell, 2016 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: The […]
A Round of Robins
Tucked into a bowl of shallow hills, where icicles hang and chill snow spills over the valley like milk on cornflakes, is a cosy chocolate yule log cabin, home to the guardian of Christmas robins. Stoking a crackling stove with wood, she prepares a feast of woodland food: fat balls, berries, nuts and seeds to […]
Shiny Red Wellies
At the beginning of December your first year was over; you had found your feet, unsteady as yet but eager to make a quick escape. You wanted to chase flakes that fell from the sky, fluttered on your eye lashes and kissed your cheeks, even after a week when snow rose to the roof, icicles […]
Little Hunter
I’ve been watching at the window for a little hunter to glide across the garden towards the house. I’ve spotted it in the tall trees and landing on the broken gate, hunting a mouse. Sometimes it steeps razor talons in soil, tugging on earthworms and toppling when they crack. I’m hoping that one morning soon […]
Lumpen Nightmare
Mask of clay, damp, lumpen and grey, fills mouth, eyes, ears and wrinkles as it seeps into skin. Thrown on a nightmare wheel, it permits the dusty bogeyman to poke holes in dreams, fill them with ceramic screams. Hands wet with pulling and squeezing sweat, you mould the lump of clay into your own face. […]
The Future and the Fourth Dimension
I shall be setting my watch and all the clocks to space time, the fourth dimension and time dilation, so I will be able to stretch it out into infinity and beyond: lightyears of exploration, sitting in my tin can with Poe, Wells and Major Tom. They say the future is just around the corner: I […]
In the Grip
We are in the grip of a stelliferous season, that famous episode of frost and florid falls of leaves in the annual Penny Dreadful, when we fend off the temptation to watch hours of plasma television. Outside, branches wave, trees tugged by boisterous fingers, a friendly invitation to join the fun, kick leaves, run riot, […]
Poetic Pizza
We kneaded the dough together, your small hands and mine, fingers probing for elusive elasticity. You picked basil from the pot on the windowsill, rubbing the leaves, breathing in each pungent puff. We cried onions, tasted tangy tomato and snacked hungrily on chewy cheese as we chopped and sliced. At the pizza restaurant in the […]
Horse Whispering
dismissing a cloud of urgent flies with tall flick and a twitching ear beating heart of rib-caged fear is broken with a whisper Kim M. Russell, 2016 Summer North Wind – Cutting Boards Tempered Glass Another response to imaginary garden with real toads Artistic Interpretations with Margaret – Carol Law Conklin Batik Artist In this […]
writing in north norfolk 